


I Like Me Better

by Dorks_are_just_people_who_care_a_lot



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: F/M, Jealousy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:47:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27770251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dorks_are_just_people_who_care_a_lot/pseuds/Dorks_are_just_people_who_care_a_lot
Summary: After the episode one shots, starting at the beginning of season three.Chapters may or may not relate to one specific episode, but they will follow the progression of the show. Ratings on each chapter individually.Title from I Like Me Better by Lauv (Check out "Title of our Mix Tape" on Spotify where somebody has put together the perfect Peraltiago playlist! That's where I found this title)
Relationships: Jake Peralta/Amy Santiago
Comments: 74
Kudos: 149





	1. 3.2 The Funeral

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rated E  
> Takes place a couple days after The Funeral. I've already got the next chapters of the story written and I promise they will follow the episodes a little bit better! But in the meantime I hope you enjoy some good old fashioned smut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This story came about because I'm currently in covid lockdown pt. 2, and making use of my time by rewatching the show. I'm planning to do after the episode one shots every few episodes as I go. I promise, the average chapter won't be quite this long. This one kind of got away from me!

The first week of dating Jake Peralta is, in many ways, like the beginning of every other relationship Amy’s had in her life: there’s a lot of excitement, and a little bit of anxiety about whether this is a good idea and whether this will work out. She finds herself totally pre-occupied with daydreams at work, her anxious mind overwhelmed with how any relationship might affect her one year, five year, and ten year life plans.

But in almost every other way, this thing with Jake is totally different.

The thing is, Amy and Jake have always had an… intense relationship. There have been times when Amy absolutely hated his guts, felt she might boil over with rage at his immaturity and carelessness. Intense moments on dangerous cases where she felt so terrified for her partner’s safety that she the waves of panic threatened to knock her to her knees. Long stake outs and late night shifts where he’s goofed around and made her cry with laughter. Times when he somehow manages to solve an impossible case, or chased down a perp like some heroic character in an action movie, that she’s felt her heart swell with excitement and gratitude that she gets to do this job with him.

The point is, everything with Jake has always been intense. They’ve been through a lot as partners on the force, and Amy’s felt just about every feeling on the spectrum towards Jake, and it’s always been at a factor of a hundred.

But, there’s one feeling that’s newer. The one that Amy has, until recently, kept neatly tucked away in the back of her brain, refusing to feel it, because up until now, she was scared it would ruin anything.

Attraction.

And now that she’s finally let that one loose, it’s an all-consuming, suck-the-air-out-of-your-chest tsunami wave of feelings that at moments feels dizzying. It feels uncontrollable and completely un-Amy like, because Amy has never been the type to let feelings or relationships get in the way of her everyday life.

This afternoon, she rushed through her paperwork in an effort to make it home just a few minutes earlier to get ready for their date tonight. She even noticed a typo—a _typo!_ In Amy Santiago’s paperwork! —as she was turning it all in to Terry. And while she did of course redo that form in its entirety and shred the original one to hide all evidence of her errors, the fact that there was even a typo to begin with is evidence to Amy that her brain’s thinking about other things.

Yep, totally not letting relationships get in the way of her routine at all.

Amy’s perched on the couch at 5:55, waiting for Jake to arrive at six. She feels so ridiculously excited that she doesn’t know what to do with herself. Due to their work schedules, with both of them currently working on separate cases, they haven’t really seen each other for about thirty six hours, since yesterday morning’s briefing meeting. And work has always been less fun when Jake’s not around, but today it felt like torture without him.

Amy’s on her feet the second she hears Jake knock on the door. Swinging it open, she grabs him by the tie and pulls him in before he can say anything. Their lips lock and Jake’s hands are already on her, and Amy reaches around him to push the door shut and then pushes him against it.

They’ve done this the last several nights in a row now, and as much as Amy is concerned that they might be late for their dinner reservation yet again, that suddenly seems unimportant.

Jake’s hands are all over her body, first her waist, then her back, then one slides up to tangle in her hair while the other works its way downward.

Amy works her hands inside of Jake’s jacket, eventually bringing them to his chest to undo his shirt buttons. Suddenly Jake’s hands are on her waist and he flips them, pressing Amy’s back firmly to the wall, his hands skimming along her dress.

Amy’s the first one to give in and break the kiss, needing to catch her breath. She lets her head fall backwards against the wall and for several seconds, neither of them says anything, the sound of ragged breathing filling the room.

And this is what Amy means when she thinks about how intense this all is. She’s never dated someone, _never,_ who she greeted like this _every single time._ Someone who she thought about all day and stood by her door in the evening, just waiting for the chance to kiss them, _touch_ them. But it’s like this every time they see each other. They don’t need to talk—they’ve spent _years_ just talking when they could’ve been doing _this,_ and Amy feels crazy for having waited this long. Wants to start making up for it _right now._

“Hi,” she says after a minute, feeling a grin on her face. Jake smiles back.

“Hi.”

“So how was work?” she asks, trying to steer things back to safer territory. They need to leave in five minutes if they want to get to dinner on time.

“Work,” Jake rumbles, leaning closer, “Was very boring.” He leans closer and whispers in her ear, “Thought about you the whole time. Thought about tonight, thought about what you were going to wear. Thought about taking it off you.”

His voice sends a jolt of tingly electricity directly between her legs, And just like that, Amy’s pretty sure they can wait a few more minutes to leave and still make dinner.

Jake’s hand slips up Amy’s back to her neck, grasping the zipper of her dress and pulling down. There’s a collective sigh from both of them, Amy feeling a wave of arousal knock the air out of her chest. She’s been waiting for this all day. To have his hands on her body, his lips against hers. To have him take her clothes off.

Jake moves to push her dress down off her shoulders, but Amy suddenly pulls back, cringing to herself because this is the exact _opposite_ of what her brain is telling her to do.

“Jake,” she says, trying to make voice sound normal, “We can’t do this again.”

Jake looks confused.

“I mean, we can’t keep just… we can’t miss another dinner reservation.”

Jake smirks.

“Sorry Ames,” he says, leaning closer to close the gap between their faces, “It’s never my plan for us to be late.”

“Mine neither,” Amy replies. His lips are just a couple inches from hers, and she’s having trouble meeting his eyes, and his hand is still tangled in her hair, her body is still buzzing, and her bedroom is just a few steps away.

“It’s just,” Jake murmurs, his lips practically against hers, “Every time I come over here, you’re wearing one of your _dresses,_ and I think surely that’s the _hottest_ thing I’ve ever seen you wear, but then the next night somehow you’ve topped it.”

The shiver that run’s down her spine makes every part of Amy’s body tingle with anticipation. Unable to stand the feeling of his breath against her lips any longer, she winds her arm around the back of her head and pulls him in, possibly a bit too forcefully, and she seriously wonders if it’s possible to bruise one’s lips from something like this.

But every single time they kiss, it’s desperate like this. Amy guesses it’s probably the blissful release of so many years of pent up feelings. But she should’ve known from the first time, when they were making out in the evidence lockup, something Amy would normally _never_ do, that this thing with Jake was going to be different. An uncontrollable kind of different.

Jake grabs her waist and presses her against the wall, and they’re _right next to her bedroom,_ and his weight against her body feels so deliciously good that she lets a small moan slip from her lips. Every instinct in Amy’s body is _screaming_ at her to _forget about dinner_ and just give in, because this all feels _so good_. But the thought that she doesn’t even have the self-control to make it through _one_ evening with Jake Peralta that doesn’t start and end with them naked in bed kind of freaks her out. She plants a hand firmly against Jake’s chest, pushing back gently. He walks his feet backwards, and their lips are last to separate with a soft smack.

Jake walks backwards until his back hits the opposite wall a few feet away, hands behind his back like he’s restraining himself. He looks about as ready for a fancy dinner out as Amy does, which is to say not at all. A couple of his shirt buttons are undone, and his hair is a mess.

“Jake,” Amy tries again. “We need to get it together and go have a nice normal date. We can’t keep doing this.”

Jake raises his eyebrows, and Amy quickly adds, “I mean, _yes,_ we can keep doing this, but _after_ dinner. We’ve missed two dinner reservations in the last week and we were fifteen minutes late yesterday. Let’s just make it through one evening.”

Jake, who just a moment ago seemed very confident, now whines like a toddler who hasn’t gotten his way.

“I’m not trying to make us late!” he insists. “Every time I come over here I just want to kiss you hello and then we do… more than that. And you’re always wearing these _dresses_ and it’s like you’re trying to kill me!”

Now it’s Amy’s turn to smirk.

“Okay then, well if kissing is the problem…”

“I assure you, kissing is most definitely _not_ a problem,” Jake cuts in.

“New rule for tonight,” Amy goes on. “No kissing. Or anything else like that. None, until we’re back in my apartment.”

Jake looks as if he’s just been told his right arm is going to be chopped off.

“Amy,” he moans dramatically, “I thought we were done with rules!”

“Jake, we are going to go to this restaurant, and have a normal date. We’re not going to have sex and miss our reservation, or get distracted making out on the subway and miss our stop, or leave dinner early to kiss in some random alley behind the restaurant.” Amy’s just listed off the events of their previous three dates. “No, we’re going to go to this restaurant and enjoy our dinner, and because clearly neither of us has the self-control to make that happen naturally, we’re sticking with the rule.”

Jake doesn’t say anything.

“Unless,” Amy adds, “You think you can’t handle the challenge.”

That gets him. Because of course it does. Because they’re Jake and Amy, and they manage to make everything they do into a competition, so why would this be any different?

Jake still doesn’t speak, but his eyes narrow slightly, and he nods his head. Amy crosses over to him, keeping a few inches of distance between them.

“I promise,” she whispers, “The anticipation will just make it better.”

There’s a pause, a moment of absolute total silence where their eyes lock, both daring the other to back down. Amy uses every muscle in her body to retrain herself from closing the gap between them. Finally, she draws in a breath, hoping it doesn’t sound too shaky, and reaches around to zip her dress back up.

“Now,” she says, “If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I’m going to go fix my lipstick.”

She walks by Jake, brushing as close as she can to him without touching.

“This isn’t fair Amy!” Jake calls after her.

Amy inspects herself in the bathroom mirror. Her lipstick is smudged, and her hair, once neatly straightened, is mussed. She picks up her lipstick and then almost puts it down again.

_This is stupid,_ she thinks to herself. _We’re two consenting adults, why shouldn’t we skip dinner if we want to?_ But Amy Santiago is never late. She just isn’t. And she doesn’t want any man, even Jake Peralta, to get in the way of the rules by which she lives her life.

Although, there were the three other times this week when Jake did just that, and she can’t really find it in her to care.

But Amy would rather die than back down from a challenge with Jake Peralta, so she fixes up her face and runs a brush through her hair, hoping she can make it through this dinner.

When she exits the bathroom, Amy finds Jake, peering at his reflection in the mirror hanging in the entryway, trying to smooth down his hair. He takes in her fresh coat of lipstick, and Amy can _see_ the thoughts running through his head, but he doesn’t say anything, and neither of them move. In the week or so that they’ve been dating, there haven’t been a lot of awkward pauses. Mostly because all opportunities for awkward pauses have been filled with alcohol consumption or frantic make out sessions. Suddenly, Amy finds herself uncharacteristically nervous.

There’s several moments, in the cab on the way to dinner, that Amy thinks she might give in and call this thing off. Since they’re already on the way, she reasons, there’s no way for them to get sidetracked and miss their reservation. There are a thousand images running though her head: grabbing Jake by his shirt collar, pressing their lips together _hard,_ slipping her hands underneath his jacket, under his shirt, under his belt. She looks at his lips and thinks _this is stupid,_ but she does _not_ want to be the first person to give in. She feels like a giddy teenager drowning in a cocktail of adolescent hormones, not the mature, intelligent adult she knows herself to be. And the logical part of her is totally freaked out by this notion, but the rest of her is just _totally_ turned on. And she’s pissed at herself for even coming up with this challenge, because she’s waited years to kiss Jake Peralta, and now of course she’s gone all masochist on herself and found a way to cut herself off instead of just enjoying it.

Amy’s torn from her thoughts and when they arrive at the restaurant. It’s a nice looking Italian place with a long oak bar and flickering candles on white tablecloths. A waiter leads them to their table, which is tucked away in a corner. Jake pulls out Amy’s chair for her, gesturing dramatically.

“Ladies first,” he says, with a goofy grin, doing a ridiculous bow. She rolls her eyes at him, but she’s relieved. They have years of practice at this; jokes and teasing are how she and Jake have communicated since they met. This is safe territory. As Amy sits, Jake runs his hands up the sides of the chair, allowing his fingers to brush the length of her arms _._ Amy whips her head around at him, but he acts aloof, grinning and helping her push her chair in.

They manage to avoid any awkwardness during dinner, mostly taking turns talking about the cases they’re currently working on and discussing one they’re currently assigned to together, a double homicide. Amy is fully aware the entire time that this is decidedly _not_ what people usually talk about on dates. But she thinks it’s probably okay. She’s always tried to keep her work and professional lives separate. Whenever she was dating somebody not on the force (and even with Teddy) she avoiding talking too much about her cases, because people quickly lost interest when they realized her job wasn’t literally chasing down serial killers all day. Amy could talk for hours about the strange patterns of bodega robberies, but nobody really wants to hear that.

But Jake does. Moreover, he wants to hear about it and then also run through the bodega robbery he worked with Rosa last week, wondering if the cases could somehow be connected.

The conversation is easy, but Amy’s brain is not in the right place for this.

Amy’s brain is back at her apartment, pressed against the wall, Jake’s lips against hers. Her brain is listening to Jake say something about a pick-pocket he arrested down yesterday but really just thinking about his hands and how much she wants him to touch her. And Amy’s brain is thinking that she’d like to tell Jake all of this, but she doesn’t want to be the first one to show a sign of weakness in this challenge.

Amy excuses herself to run to the restroom, seriously considering splashing cold water on her face or something to snap herself back to reality.

Jake watches Amy round the corner, but he’s sure the image of Amy in that red dress is forever seared into his eyes. He wants to follow her, drag her off to somewhere they can’t be seen, and do things with her that you are definitely _not_ supposed to do at a fancy four-star restaurant. They’ve spent the last half hour talking about work, and while Jake could talk for hours about his open cases, that’s also all he and Amy do at work every day. He wonders if, after so many years of being professional colleagues, he and Amy will be able to learn how to talk about something other than work. He wonders if maybe they’re just using all of this work talk to avoid talking about feelings and all that other stuff they’ve been too afraid to touch thus far.

It doesn’t help that Jake’s been using all his brain power to keep his eyes from drifting down to Amy’s lips. And her chest. And her bare shoulders.

He feels like a teenager again, and not in a good way. Well, it’s kinda good if he’s being honest. For the last week, all he’s thought about is Amy. Her smile, her laugh, her genius detective mind. Her hair, her dresses, her pretty red lipstick that she only wears for special occasions. And for the first time, he doesn’t have to footnote every thought about Amy with a reminder to himself that it’ll never happen. Because, somehow, it’s _happening._

But all of that makes him _nervous._ He’s finally getting his shot, and he’s desperate not to mess it up. Why did she start this challenge anyway? Does she really not want to kiss him? Does she not like him anymore? _Oh no, is this somehow a breakup dinner?!_ Amy Santiago, Jake knows, is not the type of person to be late for things. Maybe she really is upset about missing those reservations the last couple nights (thought she didn’t really seem to care at the time…). Maybe Jake is ruining her whole life plan with his general lateness, and Amy’s going to end things tonight.

Jake knows he’s being ridiculous, but he also doesn’t really know that.

He wants Amy to come back to the table. He wants to tell her, _Can we please call this thing off? Because I’ve been waiting for years to kiss you, and I still don’t even really believe that it’s possible for someone as beautiful as you to like me, and I’m scared because clearly none of what we’re doing fits into your life plan so how long can this relationship even last?_ Jake thinks that if he were to say all of this to Amy, he’d probably have to end the speech with _By the way sorry, but you should know that my confident detective persona does not extend to my personal life, and I’m a little bit terrified that if you get to know me outside of work you won’t like me anymore._

Jake stews in all of these thoughts and wonders if there’s any version of them that might be appropriate to say to someone you’ve only been seeing for seven days. But instead, when Amy comes back to the table he makes a stupid joke about how long she took and then launches into a story from work, because that honestly feels like the safest territory right now.

They climb into the cab and Amy gives the driver her address. Jake climb ins in first, scooting all the way to the opposite side, and Amy follows, settling herself right in the middle, just inches away from him.

Jake doesn’t dare turn to look at Amy. He knows if he did he would give in. Tell her he’s fine with losing, that he wants to end this bet. He’s spent the entire evening staring at her hair, her lipstick, her _dress,_ and it’s really not helping that they almost ended up in bed earlier, before finally making it out the door to dinner.

She turns to look at him, her face set with the grin of someone who’s sure they’re going to win, but Jake sees something in her eyes that makes him think maybe she’s a little unsure about this too.

He wants to beg her to call this off. He wants to make out with her in the back of the cab like they’re two teenagers. He doesn’t want any more rules, and he thinks _why shouldn’t we do whatever we want?_ He’s been waiting to be with her, be with her in every sense of the word, for _so long,_ and the fact that she thinks they need rules, or that they’re not doing this relationship the right way, it makes him kind of sad.

But they’ve only been dating a week, and they haven’t really gotten around to the whole _being vulnerable_ thing yet. They’re still new at this, and both desperately trying to avoid any awkwardness, like that terrible first dinner they endured. And so they’ve been falling into their typical work patterns: teasing and jokes, competition, switching to the topic of their open cases at work if their conversation gets too serious. So he doesn’t think dumping out all of his feelings right now is the right call.

Amy watches Jake carefully as they walk up to her apartment. He seemed off on the entire cab ride home, and she wants to ask him why, but she’s also not sure if he would want her to ask. She and Jake have been colleagues for six years, partners for three, and in the last year or so have become something close to best friends. They’re always there for each other, but it’s exceedingly rare that they really talk about serious stuff. Every time they drift too far into that territory, one of them makes a joke or changes the subject. Or kisses the other.

And now that they’re dating, Amy wonders how long this strategy will be sustainable.

They reach Amy’s door, and suddenly Amy’s nervous that he won’t want to come in. Maybe she ruined the mood, or maybe he’s annoyed at her because they’ve been together for a week and she’s already making rules about their sex schedule.

Amy pauses as she’s taking out her keys.

“So,” she asks, her voice coming out surprisingly timid. “Do you want to come in?”

“ _Yes,_ ” Jake says, just forcefully enough that Amy giggles. She gets the message.

And once they’re through the door, it’s clear they’re both on the same page. If the entire evening was a contest for who could touch the other the _least,_ this seems to be the exact opposite. Amy’s lips are against his so fast that Jake drops his phone in surprise as his hands immediately reach for the curves of Amy’s body. The trip from the front door to Amy’s room takes less than a minute, and they leave a trail of clothes behind them: their shoes, Jake’s jacket and shirt, and Amy’s coat are tossed, and Amy reaches around to pull the zipper on her dress before Jake’s hands paw hers away. Amy rolls her eyes but lets Jake handle the zipper himself. While he’s focused on slipping the dress down over her shoulders, Amy walks them backwards until Jake’s knees hit the bed, tipping him backwards. Jake lands on his back but props himself up on his elbows to watch Amy as she lets her dress fall. His eyes on her body are _intense,_ and for a moment it freaks her out, but before she can dwell on it she’s pushing him back to lay on the bed, climbing onto the bed and finding his lips again.

Their sex is every bit as intense as everything else. It’s every bit as competitive and desperate and frustrating as every other part of their relationship, professional and romantic. And ever since that first night, they haven’t really changed things up much, because this, as frantic as it feels, is good. Okay, it’s better than good.

It’s stupid good. It’s phenomenal. And Amy doesn’t know how she’s gone through the last two days without it.

Jake’s hand is on Amy’s back, his fingers trying to undo her bra. Amy gives him a few seconds before she smirks at his frustration.

“Need help with that Peralta?” she murmurs against his lips, reaching around to unhook it herself. Jake, eager to regain the upper hand, grabs the bra and tosses it aside, flipping the two of them over so he’s on top. Before Amy has time to think, his mouth is on her breast, tongue hot and electric and sending waves of arousal rolling down her body. Her fingers are clutched on Jake’s shoulders, and although she’s normally fighting with Jake to be on top, right now that suddenly seems unimportant.

Amy’s entire body is buzzing, and she really doesn’t want to wait any longer. Because she’s been waiting all day. She’s been waiting for years. She’s dimly aware of the noises she’s making as Jake’s mouth moves lower, working it’s way down her abdomen. He’s moving too slowly, and she wants to curl her fingers into his stupid curly hair and _push_ his head lower, but she settles instead for gripping the sheets tightly as his fingers skim the waistband of her underwear. One finger reaches out to snap the elastic, and Amy lets a moan rip from her lungs, low and desperate. Her entire body is at the absolute edge, her legs already a little shaky, the anticipation of what’s next already making her shivery and desperate.

Because if there’s one thing Amy’s learned over the course of the last seven days, it’s that Jake knows exactly what he’s doing in the bedroom. She doesn’t totally get it, but _dear God,_ she’s thankful for it.

Amy wriggles out of her underwear, and then Jake’s lips are on her upper thigh, and Amy feels her toes curl and her grip on the sheets tighten.

“Jake,” she says, but it comes out with a long moan, and that seems to get his attention more than anything else. He pauses, peering up at Amy, grinning.

“What?” he asks innocently.

“Jake, _please…_ ”

Amy can feel his breath against the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, and it’s overwhelming and yet not nearly enough. She squeezes her eyes shut for a moment, silently begging that he’ll just keep going. But when she eventually opens them, he’s still grinning up at her.

“Jake,” Amy tries again, her breath trailing off into a whine. “Jake, for God’s sake _please_ hurry up.”

“What?” Jake repeats. “I thought the anticipation just makes it better?”

He’s wearing that stupid, teasing grin on his face; the one he pulls when he thinks he’s being clever. She’s seen it a thousand times before. And there’s been times when Amy wanted to slap that look off his face. Times when she wanted to push him against the wall and kiss it away. But right now, she can think of only one thing she wants Jake Peralta’s stupid mouth to be doing. If only her brain worked well enough for her to remember the words.

There’s another long, torturous moment before Jake seems to take pity on Amy. His hands press her thighs into the mattress, and then finally his mouth is against her, hot and wet and sending delicious waves of pleasure flowing from between her legs. Amy’s never been very vocal in the bedroom, but every shift of Jake’s tongue wrings soft sighs and moans from her mouth. Amy, not in the mood to drag things out any longer than they need to, reaches a hand down to grip Jake’s hair, moving his head exactly where she needs it to be. Jake gets the message, the tip of his tongue circling firmly against her clit, steady and unrelenting as Amy feels herself unwind, her body melting into the mattress.

Jake pushes on of Amy’s legs to the side, opening her up for a better angle and crooking a finger inside of her. It’s sensation overload, and Amy’s losing herself completely, unaware of the noises she’s making or the time that’s passing. She can tell Jake’s slowing down slightly, trying to drag this out just a little longer, but Amy’s not interested, bearing down hard against his palm, feeling the pressure building rapidly between her legs. Jake barely has time to add a second finger before Amy’s flying over the edge, shaking as her orgasm wrecks her entire body. Jake doesn’t stop for another several seconds, and the pulses of pleasure rock her body for another several seconds.

Amy’s the first to break the following silence.

“Holy shit.”

Jake’s crawling up the bed beside her, his face smiling, but Amy can also see genuine concern in his eyes.

“Good?” he asks.

“I… sorry, I just… wow. Just give me a second.” Amy’s breaths are slowing now, but still labored. She’s not even sure what she wants to say.

“You know, we can just stop here,” Jake says after a moment. Am turns to look at him, eyebrow raised. He asks this every time, and she loves that he does. But she needs this to happen _right now._

“I don’t want to stop,” Amy says. “Do you want to?”

“No,” Jake breathes, “But if you--”

Amy’s lips are against his, rolling herself on top of him easily. His lips, amazing on any part of her body, are quickly back at work, his tongue against hers making her whole body hum. She reaches down a hand to stroke him, and Jake lets out a high pitched moan that Amy would probably tease him for if she wasn’t so transfixed by it. Quickly though, his hand is on her wrist, tugging it away.

“Amy,” Jake says breathlessly. He screws his eyes shut, drawing in a few ragged breaths before continuing. “If you keep doing that, I’m not going to make it.”

Amy smirks, and rolls off of Jake for a moment so she can grab a condom from her nightstand. She unwraps it slowly, relishing in the chance to leave Jake the one in anticipation this time. She licks one, long, hot stripe up his entire length before rolling the condom on, and Jake lets out a string of mostly unintelligible curse words.

Then she’s climbing back on top of him again, and neither of them have any desire to wait a second longer than they need to, so Amy sinks herself down quickly, trying desperately to breathe through the sensation, because she’s already at the edge again. Amy anchors her hands on Jake’s shoulders and then starts moving, fast and hard. Jake’s already pretty far gone, and Amy smiles at the stream of sighs and _ohs_ and _Amys_ spilling from his mouth. She grinds down, her forehead falling down against Jake’s, and her head is spinning, but she can tell Jake’s close, so she continues.

Amy’s not expecting to climax again, is just focused on Jake, but then suddenly his hand slips between her legs, running his index finger along her clit, and the sensation knocks the air from her lungs. Her rhythm falters for a moment and both of them moan, Jake’s hips shifting upwards pleadingly. Amy manages to find her rhythm again, encouraged by Jake, who’s practically shaking beneath her.

“Jesus _fuck_ Amy,” he whispers. “Fuck, please don’t stop, _please_ Amy…”

She can tell he’s close, speeds up faster, letting her hips roll. The pad of Jake’s finger, rough and slightly callused, feels so ridiculously good, and spots are clouding her vision. Then his fingers close on her clit, rolling it between his fingers, and she’s done for, her hips shifting forward a final time as the orgasm washes over her. Through the pounding in her ears she can hear Jake in the throes of his climax, and she lets her forehead drop against Jake’s chest.

“Amy,” Jake pants after a moment. “Stupid good doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

After a minute, Amy rolls off of Jake, lying beside him on the bed. Jake lies there for a minute (or maybe it’s several minutes, he really doesn’t know), not saying anything. For the first time this in the last thirty-six hours, all of the feelings that have been zinging through his body, all of the anxiety, the excitement, the arousal, are overcome by sheer exhaustion. And a complete lack of confidence as to what to do next.

He’s overwhelmed by all of this. By Amy. It feels just as amazing and unbelievable as the first time they did this. Every single time she surprises him. And normally he’d just make a joke or something right now, because that’s probably what Amy’s expecting him to do, but his brain feels hazy, and he ends up just saying the first thing that comes to mind.

“We are really good at that.”

Amy turns her head to look at him, smiling, but with a bewildered look on her face.

“Yeah, I don’t… entirely understand that,” she says. “It’s like, _stupid_ good.”

“You’ve said that before,” Jake says with a grin.

“It’s the best description I can come up with,” Amy replies. After a moment she adds, “And we’ve been doing this for only a _week!_ ”

“Maybe it’s because…” Jake catches himself and doesn’t finish the sentence, because he’s not even sure what exactly he wants to say.

“What?” Amy asks.

Jake turns his head from her to look at the ceiling. He hates talking about feelings, or anything that might be related to feelings. But he cares about Amy too much to let his immaturity get in the way of this relationship, so he forces himself to speak.

“Maybe because we’ve wanted to do this for a long time.”

Amy doesn’t say anything, so Jake continues.

“Amy, it doesn’t _feel_ like a new relationship. It feels like a continuation of what we’ve had for the last five years. And I think we’ve both wanted to do this for a really long time. And it’s been… building up.”

He finally looks back at Amy, and her eyes are thoughtful and searching.

“What?” Jake asks, his heart suddenly pounding. Was this the right time to bring this up? _Why is he bringing this up!?_

“Nothing,” Amy says quickly. “We just haven’t talked about that yet. How long we were… waiting.”

“And to be fair,” Jake adds quickly, “We’ve only been dating for a week, and for a good portion of that week we thought we were going to have to break up. So I guess it makes sense.”

“Yeah, but if we’re really trying to make this work,” Amy says thoughtfully, “We do have to talk about feelings and stuff.”

The two exchange nervous smiles. In their entire six year history together, neither has ever been very good at that.

“And I’ll start,” Amy says. “I like you, and I like this, and I’m sorry that I made up that stupid no kissing rule tonight, because between our work schedules it’s already going to be difficult to find time together. So no more rules of any kind. I promise.”

Jake, not allowing himself to overthink it, goes next.

“Well I like you too, and I like this, and I agree that it was a dumb rule, but I’m also sorry that I made us late for dinner the other times. I know you like to be on time, and you like rules, so I’m fine with that. I’ll follow whatever rules I need to.”

Amy smirks.

“Jake, you didn’t make us late to dinner. We _both_ did.”

“I know, but--”

“I’m serious, Jake. And yeah I like my rules, but in the last week with you I’ve broken more of them than I have in the last year. So I’m just accepting the chaos.”

And Jake feels his chest lighten suddenly, the enormous weight he’s been carrying around all evening released. Man, if this is the result of talking about his feelings, he’s definitely going to do it more often.

They spend the rest of the night in bed, just talking, no awkward pauses at all.

And they agree that the next night, they’ll skip the dinner reservation and just get takeout.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! This is my first story in this fandom so I'd love to hear feedback.
> 
> P.S. I'm about a third of the way through season 3, so comment if you have any requests for chapters you'd like to see! Some notable episodes coming up include The Mattress, Ava, and Yippie Kayak. Any missing moments or after-the-episodes you'd love to see?


	2. 3.4 The Oolang Slayer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rated T  
> Set immediately after the episode. Everyone celebrates Holt's return and Amy learns something new about Jake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I first need to say that I was so unbelievably grateful and honored by all of your amazing comments on the last chapter. Every author has probably said this a million times before, but knowing that people are enjoying my work is really what motivates me to do more of it. I took every single suggestion and idea that you guys gave me, and you'll see them all in upcoming chapters.
> 
> I was inspired to write this one because of the scene at the end of the episode when Holt returns, and he says somebody must have had his back. It's such a small detail but it says so much about Jake's character that he doesn't take credit for getting Holt back.
> 
> Thank you to Leona, Sinead, and Shauna, who all requested some variation of Jake and Amy's first time at Shaw's together/jealous Jake.

After Captain Holt and Gina’s triumphant return, it seems obvious that they should all go out to Shaw’s after work. Jake and Amy, who had plans for dinner, make eye contact across the room when Holt invites them all, and without speaking they both know they’re skipping out on the reservations.

Amy catches Jake in the hallway a while after all the excitement dies down, as everyone’s busy reclaiming cases from the major crimes division and getting assignments from Holt on new cases. He’s headed down to the third floor to submit a stack of Oolang Slayer related paperwork that’ll be needed as court evidence.

“Hey,” Amy says, catching up with him. She’s still giddy with excitement over Holt’s return, and she wants to kiss him, but there’s too many other people around.

“Hey!”

He’s grinning too, and neither of them even need to say anything, because they both get it. They were probably the two who missed Holt most of all.

But Amy didn’t come out here to revel in the good news. She has to know something.

“So what did you do?”

Amy’s asking it with a smile on her face, but Jake immediately looks guilty, as if he’s wracking his brain to think what he could have done wrong.

“What do you mean?” he asks. “If this is about the pen that I stole off your desk earlier I--”

“No, I mean about Holt. I saw the look he gave you when he got here. I know you were involved somehow. So, what did you do? How did you get him back?”

Jake looks around sheepishly.

“Look, I had nothing to do with it, really. The commissioner was probably just blown away by my amazing detective skillz and realized this precinct could be doing a lot better if good detectives weren’t getting suspended all the time.”

He’s joking, trying to lighten the mood by bragging. And Amy almost believes it. But it still doesn’t make sense. The commissioner has been watching Wuntch and The Vulture wreak havoc in the NYPD for years and hasn’t done a thing, so why would now be any different?

“Whatever.” Jake shrugs. “What matters is that Holt is back and I have achieved my lifelong goal of catching a serial killer. I’m gonna get this evidence down to the third floor so they can process it by Monday.”

He turns on his heel and disappears around the corner.

That’s the second clue that he’s lying. Since when would Jake ever prioritize turning in paperwork over talking to Amy? Why is he in such a rush to get away from her?

She stands there in the hall for another moment, considering. It’s honestly funny, Amy thinks: Jake’s going to realize sooner or later that he’s dating a detective now. Does he really think he can keep a secret from her?

Amy pops in to see Holt just a few minutes before the day ends. He’s unpacking the things on his desk, neatly organizing everything to be exactly as it used to be.

“Ah, good to see you Santiago,” he says when she walks in.

“It’s good to see you too, Sir. Actually, it’s great. We’re all so grateful to have you back. Things were a mess around here without you.”

“Well we should be grateful to Peralta,” Holt says, looking up from the books he was unstacking onto the bookshelf. “He’s the one who went to the commissioner and offered to give up the credit for arresting the Oolang Slayer in return for me regaining my job. He did tell you, didn’t he?”

“What?” Amy’s stunned. “No way.”

Holt fixes her with a sincere look.

“Yes way.”

“Jake went to the commissioner? He could’ve been fired for going over Wuntch’s head! He was just suspended last week.”

“Yes, well if there’s one thing I’ve learned about Peralta this week, and in the past two years I’ve known him, it is that he remains endlessly devoted to doing what he thinks is right. Even when it’s not the easiest choice. He could have lost his job by working the slayer case, but he did it anyway, and as a result a serial killer was stopped who likely would’ve made multiple more attacks by now. And he was willing to cede the credit in service of the nine-nine.”

Amy doesn’t say anything. Still isn’t sure if she believes that Jake, the person _most_ obsessed with solving high profile cases and bragging about his amazing record, would really do this.

“I think you’re having a good influence on him, Santiago,” Holt says.

Amy blushes. Holt’s phone rings, and he takes it from his pocket.

“Excuse me Santiago. It’s Kevin. I expect he just got my email or my SMS text message informing him of the good news. I know it’s repetitive to send an identical message by two forms of electronic communication, however this seemed of the utmost importance.”

Amy ducks out of Holt’s office, searching the bullpen for Jake, but he’s nowhere in sight. And much to her annoyance, she doesn’t get a chance to talk to him alone for the rest of the day.

Shaw’s isn’t very busy when everyone arrives around seven, but throughout the evening people start streaming in.

The gang crowds into the back corner of the bar, where there’s an empty booth that they all manage to squeeze into, dragging up extra chairs to fit everyone in.

“The first round is on me,” Holt announces. He seems happier than Amy can recall seeing him. Which for Holt is still pretty close to neutral, but maybe with the smallest hint of a smile on his face. Amy feels pretty damn happy too. She sits squished between Jake and Rosa, reveling in the knowledge that there will be no more Vulture, no more planning terrible birthday parties, and no more watching her dream mentor waste away in the communications department. It’s like an enormous weight has been lifted off her chest.

“I still can’t believe you’re back, Captain Holt,” Terry says for the second time since they’ve sat down. He’s grinning ear to ear (partially because of Holt, and partially because Sharon agreed to let him go out with everyone, a desperately needed break from the parenting and baby stress that has consumed the last few months).

“I know!” Gina adds, cutting off Holt before he can respond to Terry. “And _I_ can’t believe that the precinct continued to function without me for the last month.” She takes a dramatic sip of whatever fancy fruit drink she’s ordered. Amy knows she’s trying to make light of it all, but she’ll never forget how Gina chose to follow Holt to the communications department. Amy respects her a lot for that.

“How exactly did it happen though?” Charles asks.

“Yeah, who decided to stand up to Wuntch and The Vulture?” Rosa asks. “I want to buy them a drink.”

Holt opens his mouth to speak, but Jake cuts him off suddenly.

“Who cares? I’m sure the commissioner just saw our precinct productivity being tanked and knew Holt could fix it. Now I propose a toast! To Captain Holt!”

They all raise their drinks, and then Boyle offers to buy the next round, and the discussion is forgotten completely.

But not by Amy.

They sit around for the next couple hours, catching Holt and Gina up on everything that’s happened in the precinct. Gina gives a detailed account of every employee in the communications department and why they were the worst. Jake tells everyone about capturing the slayer in full detail. He makes it sound as if he was spending every free second of his suspension working furiously on the case, which makes Amy smirk because he actually spent a lot of the time at her apartment in his pajamas, too lazy to get out of bed. But still, makes her happy to see how excited Jake is, and it is pretty amazing that he didn’t give up working the case even when his job was at stake.

Eventually, Terry announces he needs to get home, because when your wife is nine months pregnant and you’ve got two kids, staying out partying at the bar isn’t really possible. Holt is the next to go around ten, insisting that he can’t stay out late because he needs to “rest and maintain a diligent sleep schedule so that I can best fulfill my duties as a captain.”

Around eleven, Charles gets a text that sends him jumping out of his chair in excitement.

“What?” Jake asks.

“Genevieve’s coming over,” Charles says hurriedly. “ _Right. Now._ And you’ll _never_ guess what she’s wearing!”

“Boyle, I am one hundred percent certain I don’t want to know,” Jake says, but Boyle clearly doesn’t hear him.

“It’s edible underwear!” He announces gleefully, grabbing his coat. Everyone at the table visible cringes, and Gina makes a sound like she’s been stabbed. Boyle has been _way_ oversharing about his newfound relationship with Genevieve over the past week. He’s already disappeared towards the door before Jake can remind him to please never talk about Genevieve’s underwear again.

That leaves Rosa, Gina, Amy, and Jake, who now fit much more comfortably in the booth.

Because of how absolutely awful work has been for the past month, the gang hasn’t actually been out to Shaw’s together in a while. This is the first time they’ve all gone out together since Jake and Amy started dating. And Amy is _loving_ it. Before, she was always a little bit worried that the two of them might accidentally cross a boundary every time they hung out together outside of work. She was constantly scrutinizing what a work friend would or should do, and whether she might be pushing it when, for example, she found a way to sit next to him every single time the gang was at Shaw’s. After all, when you work with a bunch of detectives, hiding your secret feelings towards one of them isn’t exactly easy.

Amy, cognizant of her drinking scale ( _especially_ when Gina’s around, because she knows Gina’s always counting), has stuck to two drinks so far tonight. But when Rosa pulls out her phone to show them a clip she found of The Vulture’s band playing an atrocious cover of a Beatles song, Amy laughs until her eyes tear up, and Jake nudges her with a smirk to alert her that people in the surrounding booths have turned to give her a look.

_Thanks a lot, loud Amy._

She slides out of the booth in search of another drink.

The bar is crowded with people, and it takes Amy a few minutes to get the bartender’s attention. While she waits for her drink, she watches Jeopardy playing on one of the many TV screens that are hung up around the room. Most of them are on sports channels, but for whatever reason this one’s always set to Jeopardy, which delights Amy, because she never misses an episode if she can help it. She can’t hear over the noise of the bar, but the subtitles are on.

“In the 1800s Marm Mandelbaum was an infamous one of these dealers in stolen goods,” Alex Trebek reads.

No contestants buzz in.

“Fence!” Amy says out loud. “She was running a criminal fence.” She’s surprised no one got that.

The timer runs out and Trebek reads the question on screen.

“What is a fence,” he says, and the three contestants on screen look completely bewildered.

“Wow, I guess you’re a _Jeopardy_ fan?”

Amy looks to her side to see a guy in a suit jacket and tie standing next to her at the bar. She nods with a grin.

“When I was a kid I was convinced I would be on the show someday,” she says.

“Me too! It seems like you know your stuff, too!”

“Well that question was too easy,” Amy says. “Mandelbaum’s crime ring is on my top ten list of coolest crimes busted by New York City police. She managed to steal like five million dollars.”

“Crime nerd?” The guy asks with a huge smile. “Me too. I can’t get enough of true crime podcasts and stuff.”

“Actually I’m a detective with the NYPD,” Amy says. “So I get enough of the true crime stuff at my job.”

The bartender comes by with the guy’s drink, but he doesn’t leave. Amy, who has spent her fair share of evenings as a single woman at Shaw’s, has a good idea of where this conversation is going, but she’s never been bothered by harmless guys flirting with her. Besides, she’ll never pass up an opportunity to tell someone how cool her job is.

“So what was the last crime you busted then?” the guy asks. “Something cool? Drug bust?”

Amy rolls her eyes.

“The last case I got to solve was planning a birthday party for my boss. Long story.”

The guy smiles and picks up his beer.

“They run this really cool Jeopardy trivia tournament once a month at Otto’s, on 46th street. Have you ever been?”

“A _Jeopardy Tournament?_ ”

It has never occurred to Amy that this sort of event might exist, and she is instantly enamored.

“Yeah! My boyfriend and I never miss it. It’s basically just a bunch of New York’s nerdiest people all in one spot.”

“I will definitely have to check that out,” Amy says, grinning ear to ear. “Maybe I can drag my boyfriend along.”

It still feels weird saying “boyfriend,” even though it’s been a month. Amy loves it.

“I’m Dan,” the guy says. “Our team is called ‘You’re a Quizard Harry,’ if you ever show up and want to join us.”

“It’s _Harry Potter themed?_ ”

That makes Dan laugh.

“I’m Amy,” Amy says.

“Nice to meet you Amy,” says Dan. “Now if you’ll excuse me I’m off to find wherever my boyfriend disappeared to.”

Amy waves goodbye just as the bartender finally walks by with her drink.

_How random was that_ , Amy thinks. But she is _absolutely_ going to Jeopardy Trivia night. She wonders if Jake would really be willing to go with her. She kind of thinks he might just spend the whole night teasing her about it.

Amy’s not paying attention much to where she’s going (a little bit of spacey Amy left over from drink number one), and she almost bumps into Jake.

“Oh hey,” Amy says surprised. She doesn’t have time to say anything else, because Jake is cupping her face and leaning down to kiss her. He’s warm and tastes like the beer he’s been drinking. And the two of them aren’t much for PDA, but Amy has to admit there is something weirdly thrilling about it.

After a moment, Amy pulls back. She decides not to mention the Jeopardy thing for now and holds up her drink with a joking grin. “Don’t worry, no more loud Amy.”

“Yeah,” Jake says, though he seems to miss the joke. “Hey, do you want to get out of here?”

“Why?” Amy asks, raising an eyebrow. “Literally ten minutes ago you were challenging all of us to a darts tournament.”

“Yeah, and then you told me that was dumb because I’m terrible at darts and I’ll probably injure someone if I try it drunk. So let’s just go.”

Amy narrows her eyes at him.

“Why?” She repeats.

“We just haven’t had any time together lately.”

Even as he says it, Amy is aware that they both know this isn’t true. Literally all of last week he was sitting around her apartment in his pajamas, bemoaning his suspension.

Jake seems to sense that he needs a stronger case, so he leans down and murmurs, “I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

And Amy’s convinced.

“Your place or mine?”

They’re back at Jake’s apartment in half an hour. He runs to use the bathroom while Amy kicks off her shoes and wanders around. The place is a lot cleaner than it used to be before they started dating. She knows he’s only started cleaning it for her, and Amy finds that thought oddly exciting. Her eye is caught by something colorful on the fridge and she laughs out loud. It’s the stickers she’s been giving him all week, lined up neatly in a row. It’s such a Jake thing to save dollar store stickers. There’s a sticky note underneath the stickers that reads _Tape Jeopardy._

Jeopardy comes on at 7:30, and Amy tries to watch it when she can, but there are plenty of evenings where she’s still at the precinct well past then. Because of this, Amy still has an old DVR in her apartment that she uses to record it. Recently Jake has taken to recording it for her too. She has to admit, it’s fun watching it with Jake and hearing him try to guess the answers.

“Snooping around my apartment Santiago?”

Jake’s standing behind her, grinning like he’s waiting to be complimented on how clean everything is.

“It’s very impressive Peralta. There are barely _any_ crumbs, how on earth did you manage it?”

“Does it meet your standards?” he jokes.

“Hmm, well there’s orange soda spilled on the counter,” she points out. Jake looks shocked about this, like he’s genuinely blind to the kind of mess he tends to leave behind. “But in general I’d saying you’re making good improvement.” She steps closer to him.

“Do I get another sticker?” Jake murmurs.

“I bet I can think of a better prize…”

Amy closes the gap, grabbing the sides of his hoodie to pull him closer as their lips meet.

Amy, fingers still gripped on Jake’s hoodie, walks them over to the couch, because it’s only a few feet away, and also because she _hates_ Jake’s mattress. And they’ve done this more than a few times in the past month (okay, a _lot_ of times), so everything’s a little less frantic between them. The feeling of his body against hers is warm and comforting, and being here with Jake just feels like the perfect way to end this day.

But her stupid detective brain just can’t seem to turn off.

She’s always been like this; she knows Jake is the same way. When she’s working a case, it never really leaves her mind until it’s solved. At all hours of the day, somewhere in the back of her brain, she’s always mulling it over, trying to crack it.

And right now Jake is her case.

He was being weird earlier at the precinct, he randomly rushed her to leave Shaw’s… she’s running through the pieces while also trying to push them _out_ of her head, because Jake’s pressing her into the couch cushions and her entire body feels warm and light, and she’s kind of annoyed at herself for not being able to just enjoy the moment.

Jake’s hands are on her waist, her shoulders, her chest, working on the buttons of her shirt.

“By the way,” he mumbles against her lips, “I taped Jeopardy. I mean, I know it’s been a long day, so if you wanna just sit here and watch TV or something…”

And something clicks in Amy’s brain.

_Jeopardy._

Oh. _Oh._

“Jake,” Amy says, pushing him back a few inches. “Is this about that guy at the bar?”

“Is what about what?”

“That’s why you were in such a rush to leave. Because you saw me talking to that guy?”

Jake pauses one second too long before responding, and Amy can see it in his eyes.

“ _No,_ ” he insists, shrugging his shoulders dramatically. “It has nothing to do with—I mean, what guy? I didn’t see you talking to any guy?”

To Amy this is hilarious.

“Come on!” she laughs. “You were _jealous?_ I thought you had more confidence than that! You’re intimidated by some random guy at a bar?”

“I, uh…” Jake flounders for a moment, but then his face breaks into a sheepish grin. “Yeah, okay when you say it out loud it does sound kind of ridiculous.”

Amy desperately wants to tease him more about this, but it occurs to her suddenly that teasing Jake is something that a colleague might do. It would be a way to diffuse the situation and keep things from getting too serious.

Maybe a girlfriend would actually ask him how he’s feeling. So she drops the grin and tries to be serious for a moment.

“Was there any reason?” she asks. “You trust me, don’t you?”

“Of _course,_ ” Jake assures her quickly. Amy waits for him to elaborate, but he just flops sideways onto the couch, burying his face in a pillow.

“I’m sorry,” comes his muffled voice, and Amy still thinks this is pretty funny, but she’s trying to be serious. She just doesn’t get why Jake would care; random guys flirting with you at the bar is like a universal life experience for every woman she knows.

Jake lifts his head up again, but he won’t make eye contact with Amy.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, and he does sound pretty sorry. “That was so immature of me to even care. Of course I trust you, and it doesn’t matter anyway because you can talk to whoever you want. _I mean,_ not that I’m trying to give you _permission_ or anything, I’m just saying that--”

“Jake.” Amy cuts him off firmly. “We were talking about Jeopardy. He saw me watching it on one of the TVs at the bar, and he was telling me about a Jeopardy trivia team he runs. With his _boyfriend._ ”

“Oh.”

Jake’s face turns redder.

“So regardless, you have nothing to be jealous about, but I guess I’m just surprised it bothered you.”

“I just…”

Jake cuts himself off.

“You just what?” Amy asks. She’s still picturing dorky looking Dan from the bar, and trying to keep a straight face because she can tell Jake’s upset, but it’s still so weird to see his insufferably cocky and confident attitude threatened by something like this.

Jake sighs, but doesn’t say anything.

“Jake, remember, we promised we would actually talk about how we’re feeling. I’m sorry I laughed. You can tell me.”

Jake still won’t look her in the eyes, but he finally says something.

“I just… I spent so long watching you date other people and wishing you were dating me instead. And that _sucked._ ”

Amy doesn’t say anything. Lets him continue.

“And I guess now that we’re finally dating, I… I just feel so relieved. Like I don’t have to do that anymore, you know?”

Amy’s first thought is _yes. Yes, that’s exactly what it feels like._

“Anyway,” Jake says, clearly trying to end his speech as quickly as possible, “I guess I just sort of freaked out because I’ve felt jealous for so long and it’s just a habit now. And I still feel like you’re going to realize I’m not good enough or something. And I started walking over there and I heard a little of what you were saying, and I just thought, like… maybe she wants to be with someone who’s actually smart. And knows the answers when they watch Jeopardy.”

Jake quickly tacks, on “But I _know_ that’s stupid, so I’m sorry.”

Amy is acutely aware that this is a delicate situation, and she needs to say exactly the right thing or Jake is going to retreat and never talk about this again. So she takes a deep breath to recollect her thoughts, and reaches out to lay her hand on his.

“Okay,” she says, her voice comes out a little shaky. Amy Santiago does _not_ like vulnerability, but neither does Jake Peralta, so she figures they should suffer through this together. “Okay listen, let me even the playing field for you. Jake, when you came back from your undercover assignment, and you told me that you still liked me, I totally freaked out. And I thought, _maybe this is a good thing. Maybe this is a sign that I need to finally break up with Teddy._ But before I got the courage to, you were with Sophia. And then we had that horrible weekend at that bed and breakfast, and it was just obvious that you guys were happy together and me and Teddy… weren’t. And I just thought that it was my own fault because I’d missed out on my chance. And it sucked.”

She’s never said any of that out loud before. Only recently started admitting to herself how far back her feelings for Jake might go. But it seems to be what Jake needed, because he finally turns to look at her. Amy continues, needing to make the message clear to him.

“What I’m trying to say is that we both want this. I’m not _settling_ for you, and I’m _not_ going to just randomly decide you’re not good enough. I’m _choosing_ to be with you because I want to be. And I think I’ve wanted to be for a long time. And we both had our turns to be jealous, but I think we need to get over that now, okay?”

There’s a pause while they search each other’s eyes, probably both waiting for the other to crack a joke or otherwise try to change the conversation.

“Okay,” Jake says finally. “I get it. For realz. I’m still sorry though.”

Amy smirks and scooches closer to Jake so she can pull his lips to hers. And finally, one month into their relationship, their kisses aren’t quite so desperate and frantic. This isn’t the kiss of two people who are terrified that this could all end at any moment, who are still confused as to how it’s even happening in the first place. It’s the kiss of two people who can finally feel comfortable in knowing that there are many more kisses to come. And it feels amazing.

For the rest of the evening, it’s like a floodgate has finally been opened. The two of them sit on the couch for hours, detailing every hidden feeling they’ve had for the last several years.

“Remember Tactical Village Day last year?” Jake tells her. “When we beat the record? Well afterwards I was literally _about_ to ask you out, like, opening my mouth to say it, and then you said you were getting dinner with Teddy!”

“No!” Amy gasps, clasping her hand to her mouth. “Is _that_ why you were so obsessed with beating the record that day?”

Jake nods, and they’re both grinning, because somehow finally acknowledging how ridiculous they’ve both been over the past few years makes everything seem less embarrassing.

“Remember when we were undercover with Holt as ballroom dancers on the Wint case?”

“Yes, I still remember that, and how pretty your dress was.”

“Well I thought,” Amy breaks off into a snort of laughter because it sounds so stupid to say out loud. “I thought, _hey, I thought I hated dancing, but this is kind of romantic!_ And then I thought, _I should make Teddy take dance classes with me, because nothing we do ever feels romantic._ ” She pauses, choking on the laugh she’s trying to keep down. “But now I realize, I _do_ hate dancing! I just thought it was romantic because it was you!”

They go on like that until thinks they’ve probably just re-lived every interaction they’ve had for the last two years. Eventually around three in the morning, they’re both exhausted, and Jake insists Amy stay over. He lends her a pajama shirt and an extra toothbrush, and she wriggles under the covers already half asleep.

But her detective brain can’t shut off quite yet.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Amy says as he’s climbing into bed opposite her.

“As long as it does not pertain to my emotions, because I am all emotioned out,” Jake quips. He does look exhausted.

“Why didn’t you want to take credit for saving Captain Holt’s job?”

Jake looks surprised, but Amy explains.

“Holt told me. I guess he assumed I already knew. So what gives? I thought you’d be jumping up and down to tell us how you’re the hero and we all owe you a favor.”

Jake shoots her a look, and Amy’s pretty sure she’s just asked another question that’s going to involve emotions.

“I don’t want credit because… Well, I guess because I know Holt would do the same thing for me. And he’s a great captain, who deserves that job, and I just feel like it would be dumb to hold it over his head that I’m the only reason he got it back.”

“You gave up your credit for solving the Oolang Slayer case too. I mean, wasn’t catching a serial killer literally on your bucket list?”

“Yeah, it was, and I’m still crossing it off, because I did it,” Jake says, like this is obvious. “Who cares if the commissioner takes the credit. I know it was me, and so does the squad.”

Before Amy can respond, he adds, “Okay, so maybe I care a _little_ bit. But whatever, I’ll just have to find another one to catch.” He grins, clearly hoping that he can joke his way out of this conversation.

Amy doesn’t reply; is just listening to Jake talk, trying to understand how she’s known this person for the last six years, and yet feels like she’s only now getting to know him for real. Amy from six months ago would’ve never believed this. Even Amy from earlier tonight would’ve been pretty surprised. She’s suddenly aware that she should probably say something, but she’s not sure what. She goes with “Wow.”

Jake grins at her, suddenly awkward once again.

“Seriously, it’s not a big deal. I would do anything for the nine-nine.”

“Jake it is a big deal. And it’s amazing.”

Amy props herself up on her elbows and leans over to kiss him. She can tell he’s blushing.

They turn off the light, and Amy lies there in the dark for a while, just smiling to herself. And _to think_ she had assumed their six years as colleagues meant she had nothing new to learn about Jake.

She thinks about what Holt told her earlier today. That she’s having a positive influence on Jake. Amy think it goes both ways. She has a lot to learn from Jake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. Until my finals are done and I have more time, I'm going to stick with posting every Friday!
> 
> P.P.S Sorry if this was full of typos, editing is the bane of my existence.


	3. 3.8 Ava

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rated T  
> After Ava is born, Jake and Amy both wonder whether they'll ever have kids someday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Benwvatt for suggesting this idea. I had a lot of fun writing it!
> 
> And yes, I did skip the mattress episode, but keep an eye on my smutshots story because I promise I did not forget about it!

Jake hasn’t held very many babies before.

He has nothing against them though. Or kids in general, for that matter. They seem pretty cool, and they’re usually pretty excited to hear his amazing detective stories. They’re like, tiny little aliens or something. A little confusing, but fun and interesting, as long as their parents are around to change their diapers and deal with the tantrums.

But it’s been a few years since Jake’s held a baby. When Terry offers to let him hold Ava, Jake’s suddenly nervous that he’s forgotten how to do it. _What if he drops her?_

But when Terry places Ava in his arms, Jake’s pretty sure that this is the most perfect baby he’s ever seen.

She’s bundled up in a blanket with a tiny pink hat on her head, little strands of black hair curling out of the edges. Her eyes are big and brown and blinking lazily up at Jake, like she’s just woken up. And her _nose,_ it’s the tiniest, cutest nose he’s ever seen, like how can a little face even be this adorable?! She’s so _perfect_ looking, and Jake remembers Gina insisting that newborn babies are always ugly, but Ava definitely breaks that rule.

“Hi Ava,” Jake whispers to her. “I’m Jake. I’m your godfather. You probably heard me running around like crazy all of today. Sorry your original plan for coming into the world didn’t work out.”

Ava’s eyes focus on Jake for a moment, and maybe she’s decided that she is angry at Jake for everything that went wrong today, or (more likely) she realizes that Jake isn’t her mother, because she screws her face up tightly like she’s going to cry.

“Oh no, I scared her,” Jake says urgently. But before he can do anything, Ava lets out the tiniest, _cutest_ sneeze, and then closes her eyes peacefully.

“Thank you again for all your help today Jake,” Sharon says. “You definitely earned your title as godparent.”

“It’s no problem at all,” Jake says, and he means it. Today has been the most stressful day he’s had in a long time (which is saying something, given the nature of his job), but none of that seems to matter at this moment. Ava is so tiny and delicate and precious, and Jake just wants to stand there holding her forever. He can’t believe that human beings start out this small.

_Godparent._ It’s crazy, Jake thinks, because when he made that bet with Terry all those months ago, asking to be made godparent if he could keep Sharon’s pregnancy a secret, it wasn’t a very serious suggestion. Godparent felt like the extension of the “fun uncle” persona he had with Cagney and Lacey.

But suddenly it occurs to Jake that this is a living breathing person, and he will be her godparent for the rest of his life.

The idea is exciting and amazing and scary all at once. Okay, more than scary, it’s terrifying. Jake’s not used to feeling such a sense of responsibility. But he’s also never been the kind who’s afraid of big challenges.

“There’s a limit on how many people we can have back here at once,” Terry says, interrupting Jake’s thoughts. “I’m going to go grab a couple of the others so everyone can have a turn.”

He disappears out into the hallway.

Ava seems like she’s gone to sleep, but Jake stands there holding her, just looking down at her tiny face, telling her about everyone else on the squad, and about how amazing her parents are, and even starting in on the plot of the first _Die Hard_ movie before he hears the door behind him open again. Terry is back, followed by Amy and Charles. Jake meets Amy’s eyes for a moment, and she has an odd look on her face that he can’t quite pinpoint.

“Okay, I’m gonna have to steal her back from you now,” Terry jokes.

Jake very much does not want to leave, but he begrudgingly passes the little bundle of blankets over to Terry.

“Goodbye Ava,” he says. “You’re gonna meet everyone else on the squad now, but remember, _I’m_ your favorite.”

Ava opens her eyes to look at Jake and sticks her tiny pink tongue.

Jake realizes with a small measure of panic that he has tears in his eyes. And though his head immediately swarms full of excuses—It’s been a very stressful day, and is it possible that Ava’s baby boogers are an eye irritant?—He’s willing to admit to himself that he’s just the tiniest bit overcome by how amazing baby Ava is. Jake spins on his heel and strides out into the hall, eyes trained on the floor.

But of course Amy follows him out. He can never really get away with hiding his feelings from her.

“Hey,” she says.

Jake surreptitiously wipes his eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie and tries to look natural.

“Hey.”

“So, earlier when the Captain asked me to stay late, I cancelled my train tickets for tonight.”

That makes Jake smile. Amy’s going upstate to join a couple of her brothers for Thanksgiving tomorrow, but of course she was willing to drop those plans to stay and do extra paperwork.

“I think I can catch the train tomorrow morning,” she says, “But do you want to come over tonight?”

“Yeah sure. I um… I was gonna drop by a baby store or something on the way home though. I want to get something for Ava.”

“Oh,” Amy says “I can come with you if you want.”

“Cool, I’ll wait for you out in the waiting room?”

“Okay,” Amy says, and Jake can see her trying to read his face, figure out what he’s thinking. But he’s not really in the mood for sharing feelings, so he grins.

“Better get in there Ames, or you’ll miss your chance.” He gestures back to Sharon’s hospital room.

Amy nods and rejoins Terry, Charles, Sharon, and Ava.

Gina meets Jake in the waiting room, dramatically grabbing his arm and asking anxiously, “What does it look like? Was there blood?”

“ _She_ is adorable, and not a bloody zombie monster like I know you’re imagining, Jake says.

“Does Sharon still have all of her organs?” Gina asks.

“ _Yes,_ of _course_ she still has all her organs.” Jake rolls his eyes. “You’ll see when you go visit her.”

Gina still looks unsure, and Jake notices that Rosa, standing behind her, also looks slightly apprehensive at the idea of going to see Ava.

“Where’s Holt?” he asks.

“He left,” Rosa says with a shrug. “Said he thought Sharon would prefer not to see him right now.”

Jake wants to argue with that, but decides Holt probably made the right call. Scully and Hitchcock have disappeared, and Gina informs him that they went to find a vending machine and never returned.

Jake plops down next to Rosa and Gina in the green hospital chairs, scrolling through his phone and trying to find a baby store that’s open right now. Surprisingly, there is a store that’s open, even though it’s the evening before Thanksgiving.

_What do babies like?_ Jake wonders. Do they even like anything? Jake supposes that somebody who’s only a few hours old might not have many specific preferences yet. He’s glad Amy’s coming with him. She has so many nieces and nephews, she’ll definitely know what to get.

Jake knows he should probably be exhausted after today, but he just can’t stop himself from grinning, and he feels more excited than anything else. He’s the godfather to the coolest baby who has probably ever been born, he gets an extra night with Amy, and he has a long weekend for Thanksgiving. It feels like the perfect start to the holiday season.

Amy meets Jake in the hospital waiting room after Terry kicks her and Charles out of the room so that Rosa and Gina can have a turn. Jake’s found a baby store a few blocks away, so he and Amy decide to walk. The November night is cool, and it’s been a while since they’ve just walked around together like this. With their busy work schedules, their nights together mostly consist of hanging out together in sweatpants and watching whatever’s on HGTV. Although last week the two of them did go down this street together—but they were on foot chasing down a perp, and that doesn’t really count as a romantic outing.

Amy’s aware of Jake walking next to her, talking nonstop about today and all of the crazy things that have happened, but most of it doesn’t sink in.

She thinks her brain might be broken.

There have been a lot of moments in the last five months they’ve been dating when Amy has been overcome with her feelings for Jake. Moments when he’ll say or do something that’ll just knock the air out of her chest and make her think _how could it be any better than this?_ It might be a grand gesture, like when he finally agreed to buy that new mattress. Or something small and completely random, like when he asked her to come to his cousin’s wedding that’s next spring, displaying his confidence in the longevity of their relationship.

But this evening, watching him stand in that hospital room holding baby Ava; that might take the cake.

Amy’s always been attracted to people who are good with kids. She thinks it’s because she grew up in a big family, with nieces and nephews toddling around her house before she was even sixteen. Being a part of Amy’s life, a part of her family, means liking kids. She remembers being eighteen years old, sitting in the backyard of her childhood home, watching her high school boyfriend chase her two-year-old nephew Daniel, who toddled through the grass on his chubby little baby legs.

But seeing Jake holding Ava had been a whole new level of feeling. A whole new level of _woah these feelings are way more intense than anybody I’ve ever dated for this length of time._

And there’s so many thoughts that come with that. Does Jake even like kids? She knows he loves Cagney and Lacey. A thousand images are flipping through her head. Jake joining her family for the holidays, running around with all her little nieces and nephews, Jake being Ava’s godfather as she grows up, Jake—urgh, she barely allows herself to imagine it—Jake holding their own kid one day…?

_No no no Amy, shut that down right now, you’re only five months into this relationship._

She repeats that to herself a few times, but it doesn’t help. She just gets like this sometimes, she can’t help it. Moments where Jake will say or do something that will send her off into some fantasy future with him. She’s never been with someone like that before. It kind of freaks her out, but in the best kind of way.

“Uh, Ames?”

Amy spins around and sees Jake standing ten feet behind her, at the door to a little store with a sign reading “Little Birdies Boutique.” She walked right past it.

“Sorry,” she says sheepishly. “Guess I zoned out there.”

Every inch of Birdies is caked in bright pastel colors. Immediately, Amy thinks her heart might explode from the cuteness of it all. Tiny little baby booties line one of the shelves, sparkly little hair bows line another. There’s an entire wall of little baby onesies, striped in bright colors, a lot of them Christmas themed. Amy loses track of Jake as she wanders down one of the aisles, reaching out to touch a little red and green Christmas dress that looks like it was made for a doll. How can a piece of clothing be _this cute?_ Growing up, her family did annual Christmas portraits in matching outfits, and Amy wants to do that with her kids someday. She smirks at the thought of it, because she knows Jake would begrudgingly participate and _agh Santiago you’ve done it again, quit spiraling into fantasies!_

Amy feels herself blush. She has never, literally _never_ had such a strong gut feeling about a future with someone she’s dated. A weird confidence that the future she’s imagining is not just possible, but… probable?

The realization is startling and yet not surprising, as though Amy’s allowing herself to acknowledge something that’s been sitting in the back of her brain for quite some time.

“Amy!”

Amy is torn from her thoughts when Jake pops out from around a corner, holding a tiny little onesie with a reindeer on it.

“Is this not the cutest thing you’ve ever seen?” Jake asks, grinning with excitement. “Look how sparkly it is!”

Amy’s feeling a little dizzy. It’s overwhelming how much she loves this. It’s shocking how attractive he is right now.

“Yeah, I think it’s great,” Amy manages. “But it’s the wrong size. Terry said Ava’s fourteen pounds, so she probably needs like a three month size, not newborn.”

Jake looks at Amy like she’s some genius for knowing this information.

“I have ten nieces and nephews,” she reminds him. “I’ve bought my fair share of baby gifts.”

They find the right onesie and grab a couple little picture books and a stuffed animal make their way to the register. A young woman comes into the little store carrying a baby on her hip, and the baby is wearing a _tiny suit_ with a _bow tie,_ and it’s the cutest thing Amy’s ever seen, and she needs to get out of here right now before her ovaries explode.

Jake’s in a great mood the whole way home, chatting on about all of the crazy events of his day, listening to Amy talk about her nightmare with all of the paperwork. Amy saw him running around the precinct with Sharon all day, but it doesn’t really register until he’s giving her the play-by-play how much work he put into today.

And who knows why, but the responsible, mature side of Jake always turns Amy on.

By the time they reach her apartment, her whole body feels like a coiled spring ready to pop. What she wants more than _anything_ is to push Jake against the wall, letting their lips finally connect, putting all this energy to good use. Expressing what she’s feeling without having to use her words. But Jake sails right past her into the apartment, still going on about Ava, asking if Amy has any wrapping paper he can use, and then stopping ponder whether babies can open wrapping paper, and asking instead for a gift bag.

“Is there, like an official list of what a godfather is supposed to do?” he muses. Then he pauses to add, “By the way, while I was waiting for you at the hospital I checked and there were only three tickets left for the ten o’clock train tomorrow, so I booked one for you.”

Amy doesn’t know why that, specifically, sets her off.

Well, yeah she does know. Responsible, thoughtful, remembering-all-the-tiny-little-details Jake really does something to Amy. She’s across the kitchen in just a second, lips connecting with his a little more forcefully than she intended, but still having to hold herself back because her entire body is zinging with energy.

Jake seems surprised by the sudden movement, but after a moment he settles into the kiss, arms wrapping around Amy’s waist. Amy walks herself back a couple steps until her back is against the wall, wanting nothing more than the pressure of his body pressing into hers. Her hands grab tightly to his shirt, already working on the buttons. Jake follows Amy’s lead, his tongue deepening the kiss in the most delicious way that makes Amy’s whole body feel hot. Jake brings a hand up to Amy’s chest, and Amy _moans,_ which probably surprises her even more than it does Jake. He looks down at her with a smirk.

“Damn Ames, what’s gotten you so hot and bothered?”

“ _You,_ ” Amy replies, using a hand on his neck to pull his lips down to hers again. She really doesn’t feel like expanding on the details. What she wants is for this to speed up, for her clothes to be off, Jake’s hands on her body. She wants to avoid thinking about the _future_ and all the stuff that seems a little overwhelming and emotional, and just focus on how amazing this night is. She’s just starting to undo the top button on Jake’s shirt when his phone rings.

“Shit,” he says. “It’s my mom, sorry.”

“The two of them smile, and Amy pulls herself away. If she can’t be kissing Jake Peralta right now, she needs to be in the other room, because she does _not_ trust her own self-control.

“Jake, honey, can you stop by the store on your way over tomorrow and pick up some lemons?”

Jake sighs inwardly. He loves his mother, but sometimes he wishes she would just learn how to send a text instead of calling him about stuff like this.

“Yeah, I’ll grab some tomorrow morning.”

“Thanks Jakey,” she says. “How was your day, Hon?”

Despite himself, Jake can’t help but briefly retell the story of Sharon’s labor and Ava’s birth.

“Oh Jakey, that’s so wonderful! I hope I get to meet Ava and her family sometime. Oh, you’re going to be the most wonderful dad someday!”

“Jeez Mom, must every conversation we have end up with you pressuring me for grandchildren?”

“I wouldn’t be a good Jewish mother if I didn’t. Besides, the way you talk about Amy, I have more hope than ever.”

Jake blushes at that.

“And by the way, when will I get to meet her?” Jake hears Karen ask.

“Uh…” He’s been stalling on this question for a few weeks now. It’s not that he doesn’t like the idea. He knows his mom would be _thrilled,_ and Amy would probably be jumping out of her skin to make a Karen Peralta themed binder.

But he hasn’t brought a girlfriend home to meet his mom since high school. Hasn’t wanted to. Some part of him recognizes that the whole _meeting the parents_ thing means this is serious, and it scares him. It scares him that he _wants_ Amy to meet his mom. It scares him that Karen’s mention of grandkids seems… like something that he could actually want someday?

It’s terrifying, really, how Amy Santiago has changed his entire view of the future in just five months.

Jake promises his mom that he’ll find a time to bring Amy over soon, and hangs up.

He goes to find Amy knowing before he even steps into her bedroom that she’s probably busy packing, and he’s right. She looks up when he enters and smiles. Jake figures the ship has sailed on their make-out session. He’s not even really sure what started it in the first place. Amy, for all of her general boldness in the bedroom, can be quite shy about her turn-ons. Some of their best times together have been out of nowhere, Amy pouncing on him and dragging him off to the bedroom (if they even make it that far), leaving Jake buzzing with pleasure and wondering _what he did_ to earn _that,_ and how to make it happen again.

Jake sprawls himself across Amy’s bed as she meticulously folds all of her clothing into her bag.

“So who are you visiting again?” he asks as she’s holding up two different sweaters to decide between.

“Steven,” she says. “And his wife Veronica. And they have three kids.”

“Matthew, Mason, Michael,” Jake says immediately, and Amy grins. She doesn’t talk about her family that much with him, seems to sense that he’d be overwhelmed by the sheer size of her family tree. But Jake’s trying to make an effort to learn them all. He’ll probably have to ask Amy to make him a binder.

“Also my brother Tony’s going to be there,” Amy adds. “Maybe his boyfriend, I’m not sure.”

“And your parents aren’t upset that you’re not coming home?”

“It’s not my fault they decided to retire in Washington,” Amy replies with a shrug. “Most of my siblings stayed on the east coast. I think I’m going to fly out to see them for Christmas though.”

“Are Steven and Tony your favorite siblings?” Jake jokes. He didn’t grow up with any siblings, so he can’t really imagine what the Santiago household’s dynamic must have been like. To his surprise though, Amy nods quite seriously.

“Definitely. The only way to get anything growing up was to have an alliance with the older siblings. Steven’s the one who taught me how to wrestle the TV remote out of somebody’s hands. The key is to use a headlock.”

That makes Jake laugh. Based on what he knows about the chosen careers of the Santiago children, he can imagine that was some pretty intense wrestling.

“Besides,” Amy adds, “When we all come home at once for Christmas, it’s just too crazy. There’s too many of us. My family is based handled in small doses, a few people at a time.”

“It sounds fun,” Jake says earnestly. He didn’t grow up celebrating Christmas (it was always spent eating Chinese food and going to the movies with his mom and their elderly Jewish neighbor down the street), and idea of a big family Christmas, with lots of people crammed around a big decorated tree, sounds kind of fun.

“I think that’s nice,” Amy says sincerely. “That you get time with your mom like that, and that she lives so nearby. My mom calls me once a week, but it’s usually to update me on David’s newest achievement or something.”

Jake gives her a wry smile.

“I like the red sweater better.”

He gestures to one of the sweaters Amy is still holding up, trying to decide between. She raises an eyebrow like she’s unsure of this assessment, but folds the red one up for her suitcase anyway.

They sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes as Amy flits around her room, grabbing things for her bag. She’s left the paper bag with the presents for Ava on the other side of the bed, next to a couple of rolls of wrapping paper. Jake pulls out the little reindeer onesie from the bag to wrap it, but pauses.

It’s just, like, the cutest thing he’s ever seen. How do they make baby clothes so _cute?_ He thinks back to his mothers comment about grandchildren. She’s been saying stuff like that since he was a teenager, so he’s learned to tune it out. But for some reason the idea of kids—one day _very_ far in the future—Doesn’t seem completely impossible. Still unlikely, Jake thinks. But who knows?

He suddenly aware of Amy watching him, and looks up, sheepish. He’s been staring at this onesie for too long.

“Do you think she’ll like it?” he asks without thinking.

“Who?”

“Ava. I wonder if she’ll like it. I mean, what if a giraffe _isn’t_ her favorite animal, so we got her the wrong stuffed animal?”

Amy smirks.

“Well it’s really more about what Terry and Sharon like, because I highly doubt Ava cares. Babies can’t even really see anything for the first few weeks anyway.”

“ _Really?_ ”

“Yeah, they can only see six inches away from their face.”

Jake marvels at all of the cool baby facts he’s learning today. Who knew tiny humans could be this interesting? He’s going to ask Amy another question when she speaks.

“Do you ever want kids someday?”

Jake looks up at her, startled. How does Amy know that’s what he was just thinking about? Amy seems to take his pause as a bad sign and rushes to correct herself.

“ _I mean,_ not with—Just, like, in general. Ever been part of your life plan?”

Jake muses on this for a moment.

“I’ve never really thought about it,” he says. Hadn’t thought about it before tonight, anyway. “That’s so far in the future, though.”

Jake doesn’t add the second part of that thought: _I’ve honestly never once thought seriously about the future with anyone but you._ That seems like a little too much for the moment. They haven’t even said the L-word yet (thought Jake certainly _feels_ it), and he doesn’t want to freak Amy out with how _much_ he thinks about the future with her.

Jake recalls a couple months earlier, when he and Amy had that fight over his mattress. She was so upset that he wouldn’t buy a new one, insisting that he wasn’t invested in the relationship. What Jake didn’t admit to her, what he hadn’t even admitted to himself at the time, was that he honestly thought there would be no point in spending thousands on a new mattress if they would be moving in together any time soon. Even now, just thinking about it makes him blush with embarrassment, but he can’t deny that he’s been head over heels for Amy since the moment they got together.

Amy hasn’t spoken, has thankfully set him free from her intense gaze to go back to folding clothes.

“I just don’t think I’d be a very good parent,” Jake adds, just to fill the silence. It’s not something he would normally share, but he’s trying to get better at sharing his feelings with Amy. “You know, since I learned from my horrible, cheating mess of a dad.”

Amy looks at him again, with the face she makes when she disagrees with what he’s saying but is trying not to argue.

“You seemed really happy holding Ava,” she finally says. Jake grins.

“Okay, she is one dope baby. And of course I was happy. Today was the most stressful day of all time. At least one good thing came out of it.”

That’s different though, he thinks. Anyone can hold a cute baby. But if you asked him to do any of the hard work, he’d probably mess it up. Or manage to drop the baby somehow. He just knows he wouldn’t be very good at it.

“I think you’d be a good parent,” Amy says earnestly.

And something about that comment just makes Jake so happy. Being with Amy is one part love, one part _Oh my God how does somebody this amazing even like me,_ and one part _terrified because I’ve never fallen for somebody this fast before._

But all that scary stuff about the future is… well, in the future. And Jake’s pretty content with what he’s got at the moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! As always I love hearing your ideas and prompts. Upcoming episodes I could write about include: 9 Days, The Cruise, Karen Peralta, and House Mouses. But your prompts don't have to be related to a specific episode!


	4. 3.10 Yippie Kayak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rated T  
> Jake and Amy reunite after the hostage situation at Goodwin's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey friends! Just a short chapter this week, mostly because next week's chapter is already very long and taking a lot of time to finish. So anyway here's some holiday angst.

Jake doesn’t really have time to process the events of the evening until much later. After Charles knocks out the last of the robbers, officers quickly swarm the Goodwin’s building, untying the hostages and ushering Jake, Charles and Gina quickly out of the building.

Walking out of Goodwin’s with Charles and Gina, Jake feels exhausted, and yeah, things could’ve gone wrong in there, but they didn’t. Really, he’s more concerned about how much trouble he’ll be in with the Sarge for letting Gina get in harm’s way. And about having to come clean to Charles about the forgotten present.

The first thing he sees is Amy, pushing her way through the other officers swarming the building, and when she gets to Jake she kisses him, which is surprising for someone who usually refuses any PDA in front of their co-workers.

“Jake, I’m so glad you’re okay,” she says, and it’s rushed, like she’s out of breath.

“Wow, you were really worried about me?” Jake asks, suddenly annoyed at himself for sending those five thousand texts to Amy all evening when he and Charles ended up solving the problem themselves. He probably made it seem like a much bigger deal than it actually was.

Amy says something to him about hypothermia, and then her lips are on him again, and Jake wishes they could have started this method of celebrating their work success a long time ago. He wraps his arms around Amy’s waist, and notes that she’s shaking. He chalks it up to the cold.

Amy won’t leave Jake’s side the rest of the night. He gets poked and prodded by a couple of paramedics, and then Holt and Terry both make him recount the events of the evening to them. Jake makes sure somebody gets her a warm blanket and some hot water, and insists to her multiple times that he’ll be okay if she wants to go home and warm up, but she doesn’t budge. It ends up being several hours before he’s permitted to go home, and Amy’s hovering quietly next to him the entire time. The second Holt dismisses them, they hurry away from the crime scene before anyone else can cut them off.

Amy’s looking at Jake, her eyes searching his. She always does this—these intense stares as she tries to read what he’s thinking. Normally she’s uncannily good at it, but right now she seems unsure.

“Do you want… What do you want?” she asks finally. “My place? Yours?”

“Uh…”

Jake wasn’t expecting her to ask that. It’s two days before Christmas, and he knows she’s supposed to be leaving tomorrow afternoon to fly out and see her parents. She said she needed to spend tonight packing, so they said goodbye to each other earlier at the precinct. Not that Jake’s turning down an extra evening with Amy, but he doesn’t understand what caused the change in plans.

“Or if you just want to be alone--” Amy says, looking afraid she might have offended Jake.

“No, I don’t, I just thought you had to pack and stuff tonight.”

Amy stares at him. Jake feels like he’s missing something here. What’s the big deal?

They agree on Jake’s apartment, because he really just wants to be in his own bed. Goodwin’s isn’t very far from his building, so they flag a cab.

“So I forgot to get Charles a present,” Jake tells her. He left this part of the story out when he was recounting it to Terry and Holt. “That’s why we were at Goodwin’s in the first place. Gina was supposed to help me pick one out, but then Charles decided to tag along and I had to come clean.”

Jake’s not sure why exactly he’s telling this story. But Amy’s had this anxious look on her face all evening, and he just wants to make it go away. Wants to make her smile, which is usually his specialty. But now she doesn’t crack a grin, or even roll her eyes and tell chide him for being disorganized.

“Maybe I should copy from you next year and make one of those complicated spreadsheets,” Jake adds. Now he’s just baiting her into talking. Amy keeps an exhaustive spreadsheet of all friends and family members and what she’s getting them for the holidays, and ordinarily she would _freak out_ at the prospect of making one for Jake.

Now though, she just nods, like she hasn’t even heard what Jake said.

The silence continues all the way up to Jake’s apartment. Jake can tell that Amy isn’t angry, and wonders if maybe she’s just cold and hungry, and possibly annoyed at him for interrupting her bonding time with Holt at the polar swim.

Jake tosses his keys on the table by the door and kicks off his shoes, hoping maybe food might be the answer.

“Did you eat dinner? I think I have a frozen pizza. Not very exciting, but I’m starving. We can watch Property Brothers if you want, I know there’s a new episode tonight. Also, you need to go change into dry clothes. It’s honestly a miracle that you don’t really have hypothermia.”

He makes it all the way to the freezer, pulling out the pizza and examining the cooking instructions, before he realizes that Amy is still standing by the doorway, just staring at him. She looks indecisive, like she can’t find the words she wants to say.

“Okay, what’s wrong?’ Jake asks. He’s certain it’s something he’s done.

“Sorry,” Amy says, snapping out of her reverie. “I’m just… How are you okay right now?”

“Me?”

“You were in life-threatening danger not three hours ago, and now you’re just going to eat a frozen pizza and watch Property Brothers? You don’t want to talk about it?”

“Amy, I’m fine,” Jake says, before he even thinks about whether that’s true. “Yeah it was a little scary having Gina there and everything, but she’s fine, Charles is fine, it all worked out. Besides, I got to live out the real-life version of the greatest action movie of all time!”

He’s joking, but Amy ignores it.

“I was terrified, Jake,” she says.

“What?”

For a second he’s not even sure what she’s referring to. Then he wonders if she might be talking about that horrible polar swim thing she went to with Holt and Rosa. She was certainly dreading it all day.

“I was terrified,” Amy repeats. “I left my phone on the beach, and when I came back and saw all your messages I just… I freaked out. I was so scared, Jake.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry for bothering you like that, I know you were off duty and--”

“ _Jake._ ”

Amy’s expression is just the tiniest bit more frustrated, which makes Jake feel a little better, because at least frustrated Amy is more familiar than sad and anxious looking Amy.

“Jake, you could’ve died tonight,” she says. “You were held at _gunpoint._ You were in serious danger!”

“Well yeah, but that’s part of the job. It’s not the first time that’s happened and it probably won’t be the last. I promise, I’m okay.”

“Jake, I was scared I wouldn’t see you again--”

Amy’s voice breaks, and Jake was not expecting that. This is Amy Santiago, his partner at work for the last six years, who’s literally been through every possible dangerous scenario with him and never once cried. It freaks him out, honestly. Freaks him out more than anything else he’s experienced today. Before she can say anything else, he closes the gap between them, circling arms around her. Amy feels very cold, and her clothes are slightly damp, because she didn’t have time to dry off at the beach before changing.

“Ames,” he murmurs into her hair, “I’m sorry I scared you.”

Amy sniffles and then pulls back to look up at him.

“Jake, will you quit apologizing?” she says, and it’s the first time she’s cracked even the tiniest smile all evening. “Look, I know we’ve both been in dangerous positions before, and I know it’s part of the job, but it’s _different_ now. I care about you, and when I saw all those texts… I just couldn’t stop myself from imagining…”

Neither one of them wants Amy to finish that sentence.

And it finally makes sense to Jake.

He’s dated around a lot in the twelve years since he first joined the force. But he can count on one hand the number of relationships that lasted past the first couple dates. And he’s never dated someone else on the force, let alone somebody he regularly works with. And the less people really understand his job, the easier it is for Jake to hide any dangerous or scary parts of his work from people it might upset. Even his own mother, who Jake has a good relationship with, doesn’t know the full extent of the cases he works, because Jake knows it would freak her out. When it comes down to it, Jake has accepted the fact that his job puts him in danger on the regular, but he understands that others might not want to hear about it.

But he can’t hide anything from Amy. She knows what cases he’s working, sees all the paperwork that’s filed, listens to his case updates during the morning briefings. She was standing next to him tonight when he recounted everything to Terry and Holt.

When Jake actually takes a moment to consider it, imagine himself in Amy’s shoes tonight with the roles reversed, he realizes how unbelievably scared he would have been. He can joke all he wants about “Real life Die Hard!” and Gina’s ridiculous flame thrower stunt, but it won’t change the fact that tonight really was dangerous. He likes to think of himself as invincible (a delusion that allows him to face danger without thinking about it too much), but he realizes that Amy doesn’t see it that way.

Amy lifts her head from Jake’s chest, smiling sheepishly through her tears.

“Sorry,” she says. “I know it’s not helpful to freak out. It’s part of the job. At least Teddy worked in another precinct. With you… I have to _watch_ you put yourself in danger.”

They stand there in Jake’s kitchen, arms wrapped tightly around each other, for several more minutes. Jake is brought back to the reality of the moment by Amy’s shivers.

“Ames,” he murmurs. “You must be so cold. Can I run you a shower?”

Amy stands in the shower for almost half an hour, way longer than usual. She stands there until the warmth seeps back into her body, feeling returning to her fingers and toes. She has a feeling there’s still tears rolling down her face, but thankfully under the rush of steaming water, she can’t tell. Amy scrubs every bit of sweat and tears and seawater from her body, finally feeling her chest unclench, her heartbeat return to normal.

That moment, when she’d picked up her phone on the beach and seen the messages from Jake… Amy sees why Holt doesn’t like to let couples work cases together. In that moment, she wasn’t thinking like a detective. She was thinking like a girlfriend who _loves_ her boyfriend and can’t let anything bad happen to him. All professional protocol was pushed aside by the need to help Jake _now._

Part of Amy is disappointed in herself for getting so caught up in the emotion of the moment. Jake probably has the right idea, she thinks, making this whole evening into some fun memory of “That Time Jake Got to be in Real Life Die Hard!”

She’s been held at gunpoint before. He has too. There was that time three years ago when they were working a case together and some guy tried to pull a gun on both of them. That one had actually been pretty cool—Rosa had smashed through the window behind them and tackled the guy to the ground.

But it feels different now. When Amy joined the force, she was prepared to risk her own safety. But not the safety of people she really cares about.

That’s the downside, Amy thinks, to caring about someone so much; Knowing how painful it would be to lose them.

When at last she’s scrubbed every bad feeling from her body, Amy dries herself off and slips on the hoodie Jake left her. It’s his, and Amy, who’s never once taken a piece of Jake’s clothing, decides she’s definitely going to steal it for her trip tomorrow.

Jake’s in the living room flipping through the channels on TV, pizza balanced on his lap.

“Hey, wanna watch something?” he asks.

“How about Die Hard?” Amy suggests. Jake’s eyes widen in surprise. Amy agreed, when they first started dating, to watch them all with Jake (and the deleted scenes included on the special collector’s edition DVD set he owns…), but she usually turns him down when he wants to re-watch it. But right now she just wants to do whatever will make Jake happy. Besides, she knows she’s going to fall asleep halfway through anyway.

“Yeah, let’s watch it,” she says. “It _is_ a Christmas movie, isn’t it?”

Jake grins, his smile relaxed and genuine, and Amy decides that if he’s okay right now, then she’s going to be too.

“When’s your flight tomorrow?” Jake asks as she climbs under the fuzzy blanket with him. He must see what Amy’s thinking because he cuts her off to add, “You’re catching that flight, Santiago. I’ll still be here when you get back.”

Amy smiles. She wasn’t seriously considering staying home. Unless he’d wanted her to.

“Flight’s at three,” she says. “Plenty of time to get back to my apartment tomorrow morning and get my stuff.”

“I’d offer to drive you to the airport, but as you know I’m going to be at the precinct buried in paperwork tomorrow.”

Given that Jake doesn’t celebrate Christmas, he usually works the holiday weekend, holding down the fort in case there are any emergencies. And with everything that’s happened tonight, Jake’s right that he’ll be buried in work.

Still, Amy feels a little pang in her chest that she’s leaving him for a whole week. It’s the longest they’ve been apart since they started dating, a stark contrast given that they spend practically every moment in and outside of work together.

“Seriously Ames,” Jake says as she’s putting the _Die Hard_ DVD in the player. “I’ll always be here.”

_Always_ isn’t exactly a word she would typically use in a seven month relationship; she’s not the type to rush things. But it fits.

Still, she knows he can’t promise that. Neither of them can promise _always_ to each other with the jobs they have.

For now, they’ve just got tonight, and Amy’s okay with that.

Snuggled with Jake on the couch under his fuzziest blanket, Amy decides she needs to make peace with the dangers of their jobs. Yes, they’ve got a lot to lose, but that’s only because what they’ve got is pretty great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I love your comments and suggestions :) Seriously, most of my recent works on here have been inspired by comments people left lol. A random question if you feel like answering: Where do you think Amy's parents and/or most of her family live? I'm pretty sure her parents came to visit in one episode and took a plane, so they can't be very close by. So then where did Amy grow up? If you remember any clues from the show or just have a head cannon about it please share your thoughts.


	5. 3.13 The Cruise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rated M  
> Takes place after Doug Judy's escape. Jake and Amy enjoy the cruise together. Lots of fluff with a side of smut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was not really edited because when I finally finished it I was sick of looking at it lol. So hopefully it's not filled with typos.

After Jake gets over his anger at Doug Judy’s escape, the cruise turns out to be pretty great. Like, yeah, it is one of the greatest failures of his career, letting this criminal slip away yet again. But also, there’s unlimited shrimp at the dinner buffet, so it’s hard to mope for very long.

And then there’s Amy, and she’s also making it pretty hard for Jake to be upset. He never thought he’d first say “I love you” while dancing with her at a salsa party for widows, but then again, it’s exactly the kind of weird situation that only they would find themselves in. It’s also kind of perfect, Jake realizes; the last time he slow danced with Amy like this, they were still co-workers, and he was afraid to do anything that might give away his feelings. Now he gets to just be with her.

And, if Judy had to escape, Jake supposes it’s a good thing that it happened on the second day of the cruise, leaving the rest of the week free. Or free in the sense that every free second can be filled with Amy’s regimented schedule.

Jake consults Amy’s carefully laminated schedule and tells her confidently, “We’re gonna do every single thing on this list.”

**Saturday, 2:00pm—BINGO**

Bingo appears to be another one of those events mostly frequented by elderly widows, but Amy doesn’t care. She _loves_ Bingo. When she was little, her abuela would take her to Bingo nights at the local community center (an event also frequented largely by the geriatric crowd). And Jake seems just as enthusiastic.

“I was a Bingo champion when I was a kid,” he tells her confidently. “I won my school’s Bingo night one year and I got this giant teddy-bear.”

“You can’t be good at Bingo,” Amy says. “It’s a game of luck.”

“No, the trick is to pick out the right card to start with,” Jake insists. He scans the table next to them which holds dozens of Bingo cards. “Trust me, this one’s a winner.”

His goofy demeanor, which has finally returned after he spent all of yesterday cursing Doug Judy and pacing angrily around their room, makes Amy grin.

Ten minutes later, a sixty-five-year-old woman named Doris shouts that she has Bingo, and waddles up to the front of the room to collect her prize: a free drink voucher for the all-ages piano lounge. Amy smirks at Jake, who’s Bingo card isn’t even at four in a row.

“See, I told you, Bingo is just luck, Jake.”

“You’ll see,” Jake replies with his usual brand of unwavering confidence. “I’ll win the next one.”

But he doesn’t. In fact he doesn’t win the next three, but one thing Amy loves about Jake is that he’s never been a sore loser.

“We had Jake-themed Bingo cards at my Bar-Mitzvah,” he tells Amy genially, clearing off his losing card.

“ _No way,_ ” Amy laughs. “Whose idea was that?”

Jake blushes.

“My mom’s. All the other kids had photo booths and moon-bounces and ice sculptures--”

He grins at Amy’s look of surprise.

“Oh, ice sculptures aren’t even the craziest stuff I saw. The New York Bar Mitzvah scene is insane.”

Amy likes hearing Jake talk about his religion. He almost never brings it up, obviously isn’t very observant. But then again Amy isn’t either. She grew up going to Catholic mass every Sunday and all that, but the heavy time burdens that came with college and later her police work ended up being pretty good excuses to lose the habit after she turned eighteen. Amy wonders (Because ever since the Ava revelation two months ago, she hasn’t really gotten the thought out of her head) what religion they might raise their kids someday.

She zones out long enough that she stops following along with the game until she hears someone shout “BINGO!”

She turns to see Jake, literally climbing up on his chair, waving his Bingo card around frantically in the air. The woman running the bingo game at the front of the room waves for him to come up, and Jake prances over to her, grinning like he’s won the lottery.

“And it looks like we do have a winner!” The lady says, and Jake pumps his fist into the air. Leaning over to the lady’s little microphone stand, he says, “This victory is dedicated to my girlfriend Amy, who said that it’s impossible to be good at Bingo. So there Amy, proved you wrong! I love you!”

Amy tries to give Jake a stern look, a warning that he’s making a fool of himself, but she just can’t stop herself from smiling. After how stressed he’s been the last couple days, she really doesn’t care how stupid he wants to act.

The cruise workers ushers Jake off the stage, clearly startled by his energy this room populated mostly by people over sixty-five. He makes a show of perusing through the prize table to pick something, and finally makes his way back over to Amy, still grinning like an idiot.

“Look, Ames!” he says, doing a dramatic spin. The people seated near them look over with mixed reactions from confusion to amusement. “It’s a Christmas ornament. I picked it out since you collect them.”

It’s true, Amy does collect nice ornaments from places she’s visited. This one’s probably the tackiest one she’s ever seen though. A glossy red and green cartoon cruise ship with a pair of eyes, a big red nose, and Antlers. And given that Christmas was a month ago, Amy can see why they would be giving these away for free as Bingo prizes.

But Amy doesn’t care. She takes the ornament as if Jake’s just gifted her some fancy expensive jewelry or something.

“Thank you, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” she jokes.

“Only the best for m’lady,” Jake replies.

And it’s only January, but Amy really can’t wait for their next Christmas together.

**Sunday, 11:00am--Snorkeling**

They sleep in (well Amy lets Jake sleep in while she attends the bird watching event at sunrise), then get breakfast and descend from the boat to the beach. They’re docked in Nassau for the day, and Jake knows better than to suggest that they just lie on the beach for the afternoon. When Amy’s around, doing nothing is never an option, but Jake finds that her ideas are always more fun anways.

The beach is one of those pretty white-sand ones that Jake’s only seen in magazines. Growing up, the only trips to the beach he ever got were road trips to Ocean City, New Jersey, where the water was cold and dark, and young Jake was afraid to swim because he had just watched _Jaws._

“There are almost two-hundred different types of fish we might see,” Amy tells him as they’re wading into the water with their rented snorkels and flippers in hand. “But I didn’t have enough time to memorize them all.”

“Its’ more fun if we don’t know what they’re called,” Jake says. “I’ll name them myself.”

Jake’s never been snorkeling before, and he’s surprised at how fun it is. All the little fish flutter around him, and he gets distracted by a colorful sea urchin for long enough that he forgets to come up for air and swallows a mouthful of seawater.

“This,” he says to Amy, swimming over to where she’s found a school of brightly striped fish, “Is what we call the Blue and Yellow Pajama Fish, so named because of their stripes. Scientific name is Oceanus Stripificus.”

Amy knows enough about scientific names that his horrible attempt at making one up is hilarious to her.

“I love you,’ she giggles, “But they’re called Angelfish. I’m not a _total_ novice at marine biology.”

She disappears under the water again, leaving Jake to wonder when and why she’s learned anything about marine biology at all. Amy knows something about everything. That’s their whole relationship really: Jake makes the jokes, and Amy knows the answers.

They spend the rest of the afternoon on the beach, Amy getting tan, Jake getting sunburnt because he forgot to put on sunscreen even though Amy reminded him three times. Jake drinks milk out of a coconut (something he saw on TV as a kid and always wanted to try) and finds that coconut milk is actually pretty gross. He and Amy find little sand dollars that they slip into their bag as souvenirs, and Amy gets them a couple of piña coladas served in actual pineapples so that Jake can live out his tropical dreams. Before it gets dark they climb back onto the cruise ship, sticky from salt water and sand, exhausted, and happy.

**Tuesday, 4:00pm--Seashell sculptures**

Admittedly, neither Jake nor Amy is very artistic, so this class is a little out of their comfort zone. They’re seated in a sunny, glass-walled room overlooking the ocean, with a pile of shells, bottles of glue, and an assortment of random art supplies scattered around in front of them. The example sculptures being shown off by the instructor running the event are real works of art; one is a miniature replica of a cruise ship, another is a giant crab made out of seas shells.

They tried to approach it first the way they approach everything: as detectives. Jake inspected the example sculptures while Amy spied on what everyone else in the room was doing, so they could solve the mystery of “how to do art.” But that failed, and when Amy tried to ask the lady running the workshop for assistance, she unhelpfully told them to “let your artistic vision guide you!”

Jake can tell that Amy was annoyed by that comment. She lives her life by rules and processes. Neither he nor Amy have ever been very good at following their artistic visions. He tries to distract her by building the first thing that comes to mind.

“Look Ames!” he says, drawing her attention to the little sculpture he’s working on. “Guess what it is.”

“Uh, The Leaning Tower of Pisa?”

“Nope. Ignore the fact that it’s tilted, that wasn’t on purpose.”

“The Eiffel Tower.”

“Amy you think I’m way more cultured than I actually am. You’ve to get inside my head.”

Amy’s face breaks out into a grin of recognition.

“Nakatomi Plaza! Is that little shell John McClane repelling off the side?”

Jake nods, and Amy’s eyes light up with excitement.

“Wait, let me make the fountain to go out front.”

Jake grins.

“I love you, and you’re a genius,” he tells her. Amy very seriously begins constructing a little fountain out of shells, clearly glad to have a job to do.

The hour long class flies by, and by the end they have a perfect little Nakatomi Plaza, complete with a fountain, a smattering of little shell cop cars and police men, and some carefully placed orange tissue paper from Amy that makes it look like the whole building’s on fire.

The couple sitting at the table nearest to them made a big heart out of shells with their anniversary inside. The table next to them made a mermaid. Yes, Jake and Amy’s sculpture is definitely the weirdest of the bunch, but Jake notes that Amy doesn’t seem to care, and that’s all that matters to him.

Sometimes he has to marvel at the fact that less than a year ago, they couldn’t be in a room together for more then ten minutes without finding something to argue about, and now somehow they’re on the same wavelength about… well, everything. Amy from a year ago would probably be all annoyed that the class instructor just gave their sculpture a side eye and asked if it was meant to be a lighthouse. She probably would’ve gone home and angrily started a strict regiment of shell-sculpture building until she’d mastered the art.

But today-Amy is grinning beside Jake as they walk back to their state room, carrying their work of art.

To be fair, Jake from a year ago would’ve made fun of Amy for even wanting to go to that class, and would’ve never agreed to it. So maybe, he thinks, they’ve both changed a little bit for the better.

**Wednesday, 11:00pm ~~Stargazing~~**

They’ve skipped several of the evening activities this week, and Amy’s totally okay with that. There are multiple reasons, she justifies to herself, why it’s okay that they’re breaking from the schedule. Firstly, this is the first time _ever_ in her and Jake’s relationship that they’ve had more than twenty-four hours together. The nature of their job means that they both get called in at random times and work all hours of the day. So they should be free to do what they want with this precious time they have.

The second reason is that Amy gets cold very easily, and she just knows she’ll hate standing on the top deck of the ship in the dark windy night trying to see the stars. She knows she’d last less than ten minutes.

And the last reason—the best reason—is that ever since the “I love you’s” on Friday, they haven’t been able to keep their hands off each other. Amy’s heard Jake say a lot of undeniably sexy things over the course of their relationship (as well as things that probably shouldn’t be sexy but were just because it was him saying them), but “I love you” might be the best one yet. There’s something about hearing Jake Peralta, the notorious avoider of feelings, admit those words to Amy that just makes her entire body hum. Makes her want to drop everything and kiss him, pull more words from his mouth.

So when he says it off-handedly, as they’re walking back to their room after dinner, ostensibly to get their coats for stargazing, it’s the last excuse Amy needs to change course for the evening.

They’re barely in their room when Amy turns to kiss him, the taste of wine from dinner still in both of their mouths. It’s a giddy feeling, kissing Jake. Seven months in, and she still feels that bubbling thrill of newness whenever she’s with him. It’s like the novelty of their relationship can never wear off.

Jake matches her intensity, and she hears the click of him pushing the door shut behind him.

She starts with his belt, unbuckling it with the swift confidence of having done it many times before.

“ _Fuck,_ ” Jake murmurs against her neck. Despite what probably anyone would guess, Amy’s probably the one with the higher sex drive in this relationship, and sometimes Jake will do or say something that makes her need to drop everything and pin him against the wall. The feeling of his body against her he rushes to catch up, cursing under his breath, makes her smile.

Jake’s belt tossed to the floor, Amy works her way quickly down the buttons of his shirt, their lips never separating. He shrugs the shirt off eagerly, fingers digging into Amy’s hips like he’s hanging on for balance. She pops the button to his pants and let’s them fall, her entire body already alight with anticipation as she slips a hand down his boxers.

Jake moans (he’s _so_ easy, Amy thinks with a smirk), and he lets his head fall back against the wall, breathing heavily, but also with a hint of a smile on his face.

“Ames,” he manages, “You always do this!”

Both he and Amy look down. Jake’s dressed in nothing but his boxers, pants pooled at his feet, while Amy’s dress remains fully intact. Jake likes to jokingly complain that Amy always manages to get him naked first.

“It’s not my fault, Peralta,” she replies with a shrug, moving her hand beneath his boxers, feeling him harden completely at her touch. “Work faster next time.”

“Fuck… Ames I can’t do anything when you’re doing that,” Jake pants. Amy takes mercy on him and reaches a hand around to unzip her dress, letting it fall to the floor.

The king bed is probably the fanciest bed Amy’s ever slept in. Although both Jake and Amy were grossed out enough by Doug Judy’s “smooshin’ booties” comments that they asked housekeeping to change the sheets before they’d even sleep it. Now though, they’ve been making good use of this bed every free moment they get.

They stumble across the floor, wriggling out of the last of their clothes, Amy grinning despite herself when she feels Jake smile into the kiss. All these months together and yet somehow it feels new every time.

It is new, really. _I love you_ sex is a whole different thing.

There’s something practiced, something relaxed, about the way they fall together. Jake positions himself over Amy, his hands finding her chest in just the way she likes. Amy hums appreciatively, skimming her fingers over his shoulders and chest, reveling in how good he feels.

Jake starts kissing his way down her chest, and gets dangerously low before Amy stops him. He always, _always_ tries to put her first, but tonight Amy doesn’t want to wait.

“Jake,” she says, and it’s probably because he’s heard Amy say his name so many times and knows what every version of the word means, but Jake seems to get what she wants. He crawls back up to connect their lips again. Amy hooks a leg around Jake’s back, easing their bodies together. Letting her eyes fall shut as all thoughts are replaced by _goodgoodgood so good._

It’s deliciously slow, every roll of Jake’s hips making Amy’s body zing with pleasure. She can’t tell if the whole boat is rocking or if she’s just losing all sense of direction. Amy wraps her other leg around Jake, hanging on to him with every muscle in her body, whispering a continued stream of _fucks_ and _yesses_ in his ear.

Her words come out before she even thinks, though she barely has enough air in her lungs to speak.

“I love you.”

Jake’s entire body responds to this, his hips jerking in a way that makes them both moan.

“I love you Amy,” he moans. “I— _fuck,_ Ames, I’m close.” Amy shifts herself slightly, slipping a hand down between her legs. Jake paws her hand away gently, his own fingers finding her clit as Amy feels herself overtaken by a spike of arousal so intense it’s _painful_. He knows exactly what she likes, hears every noise she makes and acts accordingly. It feels amazing and utterly surreal to have a person know her this well.

Within a few moments, Jake’s body is practically shaking above her, and Amy smiles at his determined attempts to hang on.

“Ja--ohhh,” she moans, long and drawn out, as his fingers close firmly on her clit. She lifts her hips, feeling herself careening towards the edge at a dizzying pace.

“Amy,” Jake groans back. “Amy, I can’t--”

But he doesn’t get a chance to finish, as Amy feels the full weight of her orgasm hit her, warm and full, blossoming through her body. Jake lets himself go, moaning incoherently into her neck as he collapses.

They don’t say anything for several minutes. Don’t need to. They’ve said the most important thing, and there is great comfort in knowing they will have unlimited chances to say it again in the future.

The thought of a future—Of infinite “I love you’s,” and the realization that Jake might be her forever—used to scare Amy. But now, she feels herself starting to accept that it’s what she wants most.

**Thursday, 10:30am: Farewell Party**

Thursday morning they’re both kind of bummed out. The week of unlimited shrimp, sleeping in a fancy state room that’s bigger than any New York apartment apartment, and spending uninterrupted time together is running out, and Jake can see the cloud of piled up paperwork, long work hours, and freezing cold New York weather looming closer.

“I’m really going to miss this schedule,” Amy says wistfully as she crosses “Farewell Party,” the final event off of her list. “Probably one of the best ones I ever made.”

Okay, so maybe he and Amy aren’t on the same page about _why_ it’s sad that the cruise is ending. But they both agree that one week away was not nearly long enough.

“Okay, I checked the whole room, we didn’t forget anything,” Amy says confidently. “Let’s go.”

“Goodbye wonderful State Room!” Jake calls as they walk out into the hallway. “You were amazing and I’ll miss you!”

He’s expecting an eye roll out of Amy, but she just nods wistfully.

The farewell party is just pop music blasting on the upper deck, mimosas and little souvenirs being handed out as people scramble for last minute photos and say their goodbyes. Before long the ship is docked, and with great reluctance, Jake follows Amy down the gangway and back into real life.

“You know,” Amy says as they’re waiting for their cab, “I’m not saying it’s a good thing that Doug Judy escaped again, or that he was being tracked by those guys. But I’m glad he tricked us into going on this cruise.”

Jake grins despite himself. As much as he wants to hate Judy with every fiber of his being, he’ll never forget that Judy’s the one who made this entire amazing trip possible. Jake can’t help but feel some measure of gratitude.

“Yeah,” Jake says. “He’s my nemesis and yet also my friend.”

“frenemies,” Amy says with a laugh. She’s still grinning and carefree, wearing one of the many colorful sundresses she brought on this trip, and Jake is so in love with vacation Amy. He’s in love with every version of Amy, but she’s been so much more relaxed this week (well, as relaxed as neurotic, schedule-loving Amy can be), and Jake would do anything to have more time like this, away from work, away from the city, away from all responsibilities.

“Let’s not wait another seven months to go on another trip,” he tells her.

“Can you ski?” Amy asks. “We used to go to Vermont every winter growing up. We’d rent a cabin and everything. I would love to go again sometime.”

“Well I haven’t skied in real life, but I’ve played a lot of Wii Sports Resort, and I’m pretty confident those skills will transfer.”

Amy rolls her eyes.

“I love you.”

And Jake will never get tired of hearing that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! Sorry for the hiatus in posting. Trust me I'd rather be writing this fic, but alas I've been writing college papers instead. As always, I greatly appreciate your feedback, suggestions, and prompts.


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